Star Fox: Misadventures
by Elarix
Summary: Growing collection of crack fics and humor one-shots. Episode 6: Warp Gate Exploit
1. Ep 1: Pilot

**Author's Note: Hello and welcome to my new one-shot collection for Star Fox. Do you enjoy the humor of _The Hunting Party_ but hate it when real life and serious crap kicks you in the nuts? Look no farther than _Star Fox: Misadventures —_ an episodic series of humorous SF episodes minus all of the darker themes of _THP._ I'll be writing this story as a counter balance to the decidedly darker _Hunting Party_ and another serious story I will begin in the far future, just so not everything I write is totally depressing. And if you think the humor in _THP_ is going to last forever... Hahahaha**

 **Anyway, enjoy this first update; it'll be the only thing I write in this collection for a while. This first episode is specifically written for Sheppard Studios, to give him a little fun after going through some nasty operations earlier today—er, yesterday. It's 5:00 AM right now, I stayed up into the early morning hours doing this crap, churning out this entire update in five hours during my normal sleep cycle, so y'all better like it. I hope you feel better Shep: enjoy.**

 **...Guys, what am I doing? Why did I publish this? It's early in the morning, I need sleep, okay...**

* * *

 **Star Fox: Misadventures**

 **Episode 1: Under the Knife (Pilot)**

* * *

"He's gonna be okay, right, doc?" Falco worriedly asked the physician.

The 'doc', a lanky red-eyed tree frog, snapped on a pair of white, rubber gloves, complete with all of the usual dramatic flare. "Oh, I don't know," the amphibian answered as he lowered an oxygen mask over the vulpine reclining between them. "Mr. McCloud is in a pretty terrible condition; we managed to set all of his bones, but the shrapnel and other debris is another matter completely. Whatever he was doing, it was highly _dangerous_." He fixed Falco with his unsettling red eyes, making his disapproval for their line of work known.

The azure falcon scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Er, yeah... was pretty dangerous at that." He and the rest of the team had avoided going into too much detail about Fox's "circumstances", considering they had been on a confidential job.

At the moment, Falco, Miyu, and Slippy were standing in the brightly light hospital room, not too far from Fox's side; the vulpine was stretched out on an uncomfortable-looking cot, only dressed in a thin hospital gown—though the sheer amount of bandages and casts that encased his body seemed to make up for it. Fox's face was wrapped like a mummy's; completely wrapped in white bandages except for two small slits for his eyes. His right arm and left leg were both encased in full casts, while underneath the green gown, his chest and stomach were covered in bandages.

"How're you feeling, Fox?" Miyu asked, grasping the side of Fox's gurney.

All eyes turned to a small box placed beneath Fox's left hand, consisting of a small keypad and a simple LED display. Slippy had whipped up the device so that they could communicate with Fox even with his mouth sealed beneath bandages.

Slippy haltingly read the words aloud as Fox typed them out. "What... does it... look... like? Do I... seem... f..." Slippy's voice died out as he skipped over the profanity. "All right... too you?"

Miyu's shoulders slumped, and she frowned sympathetically. "Hah hah... I guess not."

"But he'll still make it, right?" Falco repeated.

"Of course... as long as we successfully remove the shrapnel. As soon as the anesthesia kicks in, I will set to work. First, there are some instruments I still need to locate. I must ask you all to leave now; I'm afraid you can't be present for the operation."

Falco grabbed the doctor's arm. "All right but, that's my boy you've got there, okay? Make sure he comes out okay."

After the avian grabbed his arm, the tree frog jumped back, raising his gloved hands defensively. "Watch it! Sterile, sterile!"

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"When will you be done?" Slippy asked the doctor. "If he's gonna be hopped up on anesthesia, I want to be there. I've gotta film it and upload it to EweTube."

Miyu elbowed Slippy in the side. "Not the time, Slip! Fox is terribly hurt here!"

"Well, we'll be seeing you, doc," Falco said, reluctantly making his way to the hospital door. "Take care, Fox," he offered.

Miyu and Slippy also wished Fox a successful surgery before they exited the hospital room with the doctor, thus leaving Fox by himself. Without anyone to talk to, he was left to stare blankly around the four white-washed walls and various medical equipment lying around the room. A black monitor with a green line oscillating across it was clipped to the side of his gurney, beeping quietly with each of his heart beats. He tried to slow his breathing by taking deeper breaths of whatever the face mask was pumping into his nostrils—oxygen, anesthesia, laughing gas, or any other form of chemical.

To tell the truth, he was nervous. In fact, he was the most scared he had ever been in his life. It wasn't like the rush of adrenaline he felt flying a mission or during a dogfight; at least those activities were enjoyable and under his control, even if they always carried the danger of him dying. _H_ _e_ had always been the one in the cockpit, the one behind the controls deciding his fate. Now, however, it was all in the hands—the sticky _webbed_ hands—of some surgeon he had never met before in his life. It was out of his control.

At that moment, a nurse walked in and with extreme caution closed the door behind her. If his face hadn't been immobilized by layers of bandages, Fox would have raised an eyebrow at the nurse's suspicious actions.

The nurse turned around, revealing herself to be a young, white-furred poodle. Fox immediately forgot the woman's suspicious actions as the more... "outstanding" features became apparent. The young canine wasn't dressed like any other nurse Fox had seen in the hospital; she wore a tight white nurse's blouse that seemed to be too small even for a girl of her lacking stature. Her skirt was also too short to pass for a nurse's skirt, or even be allowed in public for that matter. And, to top her ridiculously revealing uniform off, she wore a vibrant red bow above her floppy right ear.

 _Beep... beep... BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_

As the heart-rate monitor seemed to sprint off on the hundred yard dash, the poodle crossed her arms over a clipboard she carried and held it in front of her skirt. "Look, Mr. McCloud," she began in a shy voice, "I know this is a really unorthodox way of doing things, but..."

The girl suddenly leapt forward and bent over Fox's immobilized body. "Can I join your team? _Please_!?"

Fox jerked back from the girl, taken aback by her sudden forwardness. However, he was unable to verbally express any of his thoughts, so the poodle continued, unhindered.

"Forgive me, maybe I should introduce myself..." The poodle straightened back up, brushing out her uniform. "You see, I'm Fay Sp— ...well, let's just keep it at Fay for now, shall we? And can I just call you Fox?"

When Fox didn't answer, she continued. "Great! So, you've always been like, my hero, you know what I mean? I mean you and your team of course, but like, _you_ especially _._ I thought it was so cool how you followed in your dad's footsteps and everything like that, and how you started your own team up when you were like, seventeen!"

Fay was talking at a pace near the speed of light, completely gushing like a school girl as she went on. "And I know you're probably like, "Whaaaat? What is this little girl dressed up like a nurse doing next to me before an operation? I mean, hello-oh, right? This is crazy!" But I can explain the nurse getup and all that; I just needed a disguise, and it was the closest thing I could find on such short notice! Hey, by the way, do you like it?"

The poodle did a quick pirouette for Fox, once again displaying her extremely appealing outfit.

 _BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP_

"Anyway, I've always wanted to be part of a mercenary unit, especially one like yours!" Fay continued in a bubbly voice. "So when I read on the news somewhere that you were injured and that you were taken to a hospital nearby, I just _had_ to take the chance! And I know my dad is against me becoming a mercenary and all, but he's never supported anything I do! He barely even let me go to _college_! And I know I still haven't applied to any, but my parents have enough money to send me to _any_ ivy-league school in the system, just like—" She snapped her fingers. "That! So it's still pretty certain that I can get the money out of them if I wanted to..."

Fox rolled his eyes, frustrated that he was powerless to stop the energetic girl from yapping away at him. _When would the doctor get back and discover the intruder?_

Suddenly, Fay stopped herself and propped one of her floppy ears up. "Oh, _sorry,_ " she whimpered apologetically, "I went down another rabbit trail, didn't I? I tend to do that a lot. My friends make fun of me for how perpetually caffeinated I am. They always say I'd forget to put on my head if it wasn't always strapped on tight! Or was that my bra..." Fay absently began patting the front of her uniform, eyes widening in horror and face blushing beneath her fur. "Oh my god! I did _not_ just...!"

 _BEEP-BEEP-_ _BE—_

"Uuugh! All right, I'll try to get to the point, but Lord knows I'll just stray off again. So, you'll let me on your team, right? I admit, I haven't had any practical experience, and I may have never worked a job before in my life... well, unless you consider modeling, but that was just for fun. But for the past few years I've been practicing flying one of my family's private jets when they're off planet for a party or business trip or something; I'm really good at it, too!" Her voice suddenly sank into a shy whimper, "Only been pulled over once or twice... alright four times, but I also play a lot of space and combat video games! I learned a lot from those, too!"

Taking all that he could from the exuberant canine, Fox tapped two keys on the communicator box and furiously shook it to get Fay's attention. Finally noticing the device, Fay bent over Fox to better read it. "Oh, so you _caaaan_ communicate! I thought you were either deaf or just dumb after that accident! Looks like you can't talk right now except for..."No"!? I can't join!? Oh come on! Please Fox? _Pleeeease!?_ I promise I won't get in your way or anything! I swear I'm not like, deadweight! I'll be really helpful!"

At that moment, the operating room door swung open, revealing a previously unseen surgeon. Taking his gaze off of Fay to look at the doctor, Fox's eyes suddenly bulged. Standing in the doorway was none other than Leon Powalski. The emerald green chameleon was dressed in an avocado-green surgeon's smock—though thankfully it wasn't as tight or revealing as Fay's—and held a pair of large, razor-sharp scissors in his claws. The disguise was apparently enough to fool the rest of the hospital's staff, but for Fox there was no mistaking the devious reptile.

"Nurse, the doctor is _real_ in," Leon sneered. "We are ready for the—" he snipped the scissors with a flourish, " _Operation._ "

"Oh!" Fay exclaimed, blinking. "Oh, okay. I guess I'll just have to convince you while they're working on you."

Something was definitely wrong, and Fox knew it. The girl called Fay turning up was one thing—she was just an over-obsessed fan—but when one of Star Fox's arch nemeses showed up with a pair of sharp objects, foul play was obviously afoot. Fox's mind raced to put the pieces together. Leon replacing his surgeon could only mean one thing; Star Wolf had heard of his accident and where he would undergo treatment, then decided to take the opportunity to off the leader of their rivals. They were disguising as doctors to kill him, under the guise of operating to safe his life; it was ingenious—ingeniously evil.

"Mhhhm!" Fox desperately mumbled through the bandages. "Mhhhmmmmm!"

"Don't worry, Fox!" Fay cheerfully said as she patted his broken arm, causing arcs of electric pain to shoot through his limb, "I'm sure I can make you change your mind! You just have to give me a chance."

And with that, the oblivious poodle rolled a powerless Fox into the operating room. When the cot slid past Leon, who was holding the door open, the chameleon grinned evilly, for once coordinating his eyes and fixing them both on Fox.

* * *

 _"_ _Side effects_ _of_ _P_ _urocene_ _may include; abdominal pain, abnormal heart pace, abnormal tongue coating, alkaline phosphatase increase, alopecia, amaurosis, amnesia, anemia, angina pectoris, anorexia, anxiety, asthenia..."_

"And they're only on the A's!" Miyu exclaimed, gesturing at the television commercial playing in front of them. "What does it take for them to realize whatever they're selling will most likely _kill_ me than anything else!?"

The trio of mercenaries were currently seated in the waiting room, biding their time until Fox's operation was over. The current ads did nothing to abate their fear for Fox.

Falco slammed his fists down on his knees. "This sucks!" He sprang to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets and marching away. "I'll be right back, I just need something to keep me awake right now... and I know just the thing."

The avian set out for the vending machine near the receptionist's window. Taking out a credit pack from his wallet, he held it against a magnetic strip on the dispenser's side. Keying in the energy drink that he wanted, he licked his beak in anticipation and waited for the tell-tale rustle as the can hit the bottom of the machine. When the noise sounded, he stooped over and picked up the drink. It was a tall, gold and red-tiled can of his favorite energy drink: Blue Steer.

Popping the top of the can open, he closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and began chugging the bubbly liquid. With the energy drink still pouring down his throat, he opened his eyes and glanced around the room. To his surprise, they ended up landing on a tall lupine dressed in a white doctor's uniform.

Choking on the soda, his throat muscles contorted, and he bent over, nearly spraying the liquid back out. To keep from letting the wolf know he had been spotted, he turned his back on the lupine, continuing to cough loudly and beat his chest. When he was confident the wolf wasn't looking, Falco cautiously turned around and studied him closer. He had been right the first time; it was Wolf O'Donell after all.

The lupine mercenary didn't spare Falco a second glance as he retreat out of sight behind the receptionist's desk. Finally regaining his composure, Falco straightened back up. Reluctantly, he glanced at his soda can with longing eyes. Then, he crushed it and tossed it into a nearby trash can before sprinting off into the hospital.

Fox was in danger; that much he knew. Whatever Wolf's plans or intentions were, they couldn't be good; but he had to stop the other mercenary at any cost.

* * *

"I'm afraid we'll have to amputate," Leon said with mock pity. He slipped Fox's right arm—the one encased in a cast—off the gurney and onto a large silver plate beside him. Binding the arm to the plate with several strips of black Velcro, the chameleon positioned an unbelievably large saw on top of the cast.

"And my parents are practically drowning in money!" Fay continued. "If you let me join, I'm sure they could support your team for years to—" Her ear twitched. "Did you say, amputate?"

For the most part ignoring the inquisitive poodle, Leon bent over to plug the device into a wall outlet. "Oh yes; all of his limbs, in fact. From there, we'll see what else we can amputate. We might have to get creative."

"Oh... okay," Fay said, only half interested in the chameleon's answer. "As I was saying, I could support you financially if you let me join. It would mean so much to me, you know? It's like, my whole life I've dreamed of this; and now it might really happen!"

Leon revved up the saw once, to test its rotation speed. This seemed to unnerve Fay, who suspiciously eyed the tool. "Don't you think he needs more anesthesia, doctor?"

"I'm sure he's had an ample supply," Leon reassured her. "He won't feel a thing; will you, McCloud?" He chopped his hand down on Fox's broken arm, causing him to groan in pain.

Fay reluctantly shrugged. "Well... you _are_ the doctor, I guess."

Leon grinned, tampering with the settings on the limb saw. "I'm about as much of a doctor as you are a nurse, my dear."

Heart pounding in his chest and stomach doing icy flip flops, Fox furiously typed away on his communicator. If he didn't get Fay's attention and warn her of the threat, he would lose his limbs... and worse. At the moment, he had a wonderful rivalry going on with Wolf, and he wasn't prepared to let it die. If Leon had his way, Fox would end up sliced and packaged in the local supermarket's fresh meat section. He could just picture Wolf laughing as he was cut up, relishing in every moment of Fox's pain. No, he couldn't end this way; he had to go down in flames, a spectacular explosion; sacrificing himself for the good of his team and the entire System.

To escape, he had to get Fay's attention, but so far he had no luck. If only he had his wrist comm, he could call Falco or Miyu to his rescue, but that was out of the question as well. And, to make matters worse, he was slowly succumbing to the numbing chemicals, and would soon be asleep. At least he wouldn't feel it when Leon cut him up...

Fox renewed his efforts on the communicator, which, to his surprise, garnered Fay's attention.

Pointing to his fiercely moving hand, the poodle said, "Hey, his arm's still moving."

"Is it now," Leon said, looking at Fox's hand. Noticing the desperate messages the vulpine was typing out on the communicator, he clicked his lips. "Well, looks like Mr. Arm could use some more lidocaine." The chameleon plunged a syringe into Fox's wrist, causing it to contort and flinch, letting go of the box.

"Now, before your anesthesia kicks in, Wolf said he wanted you to _feel_ a little of this. It isn't fun unless you're awake, right, McCloud?"

Not wasting anymore time, the chameleon activated the saw, and the spinning blade buzzed to life. Angling it downwards, he began cutting through Fox's cast, aiming for the flesh and bone beneath. As Fay continued talking to him, Fox flailed around and moaned, urgently trying to get her attention and stay awake.

But before the saw reached Fox's skin, the operating room's twin doors burst open, revealing Falco panting in the doorway.

"Fox!" Falco exclaimed, quickly sizing up the situation. Instantly processing Leon and his trusty limb saw, the avian dove across the room and tackled the lizard to the floor. The saw was sent flying up into the air until it landed blade down between Fox's legs, narrowly missing his... vitals. The vulpine watched in horror as the blade effortlessly cut through the metal gurney, remaining precariously upright between his legs.

As Falco grappled with the chameleon on the floor, he managed to shout out, "What are you doing!? This doctor's a quack! Don't just stand there, girl; untie Fox!"

"Oh my!" Fay exclaimed, clapping a paw over her mouth before she set to work removing Fox's precautionary bindings.

Once she had freed the vulpine, Falco bellowed, "Run, Fox! _Run_!"

Needing no further encouragement, Fox pivoted on the medical cot and slipped off onto his feet. Because one of his legs was broken and enveloped in a cast, he had to limp awkwardly away, but that didn't stop him from bolting from the operating room.

As Leon slowly won the upper hand, pinning Falco to the floor and beginning to choke him, the avian managed to cough out, "H-help me, nurse!"

"A-all right!" Fay exclaimed. "I was... I was born ready for this!"

As the doors swung shut behind Fox, Fay tackled Leon herself and managed to pry him off of Falco's neck, though the fight was far from over.

* * *

Fox hobbled out of his room and looked up and down the hall. Spotting an exit sign at the end of the hallway, he set off limping in its direction, but his ears twitched when he heard a familiar voice shout from behind him.

"Stop right there, pup!"

Fox quickly glanced over his shoulder, but froze in terror when he noticed both Wolf and Panther at the other end of the hall. The two mercenaries wasted no time in bolting down the hallway after Fox, who finally recovered from his initial shock and began limping towards the exit.

Rounding a corner still with a large head-start on his two enemies, Fox came upon the hotel's elevators. It was difficult to think through the mind-numbing effects of the anesthesia, but that didn't stop him from formulating a plan. After a nurse exited one of two elevators, Fox hobbled inside and tried to press the floor number for the lobby, but his first attempt failed; his numbed hand flopped limply at the end of his arm, so he had to punch the number with his elbow. Next, he quickly stepped back out. He limped around the corner and held his breath, hoping Wolf would take the bait.

Echoing footsteps grew louder and louder as they approached Fox, but they slowed to a stop in front of the elevator.

"Damn, he made it into the elevator!" Wolf cursed, kicking the steel doors in a blind rage.

"Quick, we'll take the other one!" Panther said as he pressed the down button on the remaining elevator.

Wolf held out his hand, stopping the feline. "Wait, what floor is he getting off at?"

The two mercenaries paused until the elevator car stopped.

"Ground floor."

"Let's go!"

Wolf and Panther stepped into next elevator, but to their chagrin they were followed by a team of doctors and nurses, who piled in after them. Acting as quickly as his bandages would allow, Fox swatted a canister marked "laughing gas" off its wheeled table and onto the floor. Next, he brought his boot cast-down on top of the nozzle, smashing it off and releasing the gases it contained. With one last kick, he sent the canister sailing into the elevator, a mere second before the doors closed and the car began its descent.

 _That ought_ _ta_ _hold them,_ Fox told himself. Turning around, he began hobbling down the next hallway in search of any communication device he could get his hands on. How he would end up working it in his condition, he didn't know; but he would sure give it a try.

* * *

Back in the operating room, the brawl was still going on. While the avian and reptile's limbs were locked in a tense struggle for dominance, the chameleon had another trick up his sleeve. Spitting his long, slimy tongue out, he wrapped it around the falcon's neck, tightly constricting it until he once again began choking his opponent.

"Ugh, geez!" Falco exclaimed, recoiling at the wet sensation of Leon's tongue around his neck. "Nurse, give me something! _Anything_!"

Fay anxiously glanced around the room for any sort of weapon, but declined from handing Falco the bone saw. Finally, she settled on a syringe similar to the one Leon had used earlier to numb Fox's arm. After she handed the needle to Falco, the avian plunged it into Leon's tongue, causing the lizard to scream in agony and loosen his grasp on his opponent.

As Leon's tongue fell loosely from his neck, Falco wrinkled his nose and grabbed the slimy flesh, swinging it around the leg of Fox's gurney and tying it in a crude not. Struggling to his feet, he brought his boot down on Leon's tongue, prompting the reptile to freeze in his place on the floor; it was clear who had the upper hand now.

With Leon immobilized, Falco activated his wrist comm and brought it to his mouth, panting heavily.

* * *

 _"...melanoma,_ _m_ _elenia, menorrhagia, migraines, mood swings, mouth ulcers, myocardial infarcation..."_

"Hang on, Slip; Falco's calling."

"Where the heck is he?" Slippy complained. "You think he's trapped in the bathroom because he overflowed the—"

Accepting Falco's call on her comm, Miyu vigorously waved her hand and shushed Slippy. "Falco? What's the news?"

 _"Star Wolf; they're here!"_

Placing her hand over her other ear, Miyu exclaimed, "What!?"

 _"I spotted Wolf in the lobby, so I knew something was wrong. Look, I just saved Fox from Leon, who nearly chopped him up into cold cuts._ _I don't know where Fox is, but the important thing is finding Wolf—and Panther if he's with_ _him._ _Can you do that?"_

Leaping up from her seat, Miyu said, "Of course! We're right on it!"

Switching off her wrist comm, she grabbed Slippy's wrist and dragged him across the lobby towards the elevators. "Come on, Slip; we've got to track down Wolf and Panther before they find Fox! Of all the times they chose to attack us, why now!?"

Jerking his arm out of Miyu's grasp, Slippy said, "Well, you kind of have to give them credit. A team is weakest without its leader, and that's what they're taking advantage of."

"But it's such a dirty tactic! Just what you'd expect from those no-good..."

The lynx and amphibian stopped in front of the elevator, waiting for the car to arrive at their floor. Huffing, she crossed her arms and angrily tapped her foot. "Man, if I get my hands on Wolf and that idiotic, flirtatious—"

At that moment, the elevator sounded a pleasant _ding_ , and the silver doors smoothly swung open, revealing their contents. Miyu stopped mid-sentence as she saw the complete mess that filled the elevator car.

All in one big pile lay Wolf, Panther, and an assortment of doctors and nurses. Mercenary and medical staff member alike were guffawing outrageously, which was especially uncharacteristic of the usually stoic physicians. But above all, Wolf's Texan laugh drowned out the others.

"I can't take it!" the lupine managed to squeeze out through the laughter as he grabbed his shaking sides. "The nerve of that pup! Imagine sending us down the elevator on a wild goose-chase, and getting us all high on laughing gas in the process! And I don't even know who this dude is!" Wolf slapped a robin doctor's back, causing the bird to burst out in a riot of laughter again.

Miyu was not amused. "Don't try to joke your way out of this one, _Wolf,"_ she spat. "Trying to put Fox down while he was already injured is unacceptable. We're handing you over to the police!"

"I know!" Panther guffawed, "Isn't it awful? I'm in so much pain! I am dying! I am literally dying inside!"

Slippy narrowed his eyes at the pile of medical staff and mercenaries. "But if Wolf and Don Juan are here... where's Fox?"

* * *

Arriving at another set of elevators, Fox hit the up button and waited for the car to descend to his level. Once inside, he jammed his elbow into the highest button on the panel, sending the elevator on a long path to the roof. As the doors closed, he fell back against the car's wall, and would have slid to the floor if it hadn't been for his leg cast. Instead, he leaned against the wall, panting for breath.

When the elevator jerked upwards, Fox felt the anesthesia return in a strong wave, giving his stomach nausea and making his world spin. It wouldn't be long 'til the narcotics completely kicked in and brought him under, and then it would be all over for him. If Falco and the rest of his team failed to subdue Star Wolf, he was done for. Oh, what would his dad say?

At that moment, the elevator slowed to a stop to let on another passenger. Fox held his breath as the doors swung open, but the doors didn't reveal Wolf or Leon. Instead, a large, roasted turkey appeared in the doorway and boarded the elevator. Its head was missing, instead replaced with a gaping hole overflowing with stuffing. Regardless, it seemed to look at the floor Fox had selected, then was content when it saw the elevator was headed for the roof.

When the doors swung shut again, and the elevator continued on its long path, Fox pressed himself against the elevator wall, sliding across the corner until he was as far away from the strange apparition as he could get.

 _Keep it cool, Fox McCloud,_ he thought to himself. _It's just a turkey. Juuust a turkey. Act natural, like it's normal to run into cooked_ _poultry_ _on an elevator, and everything will be fine._

Releasing his breath, Fox tried to relax. He even considered making conversation with the walking meal, but thought better off it. What would he even talk with a turkey about?

But the elevator slowed to a stop again, this time letting on two new passengers; a rabbit wearing a panda pajama onesie, and a panda bear in turn wearing a rabbit suit. The elevator doors slid shut, and the car lifted off once again. Fox glanced back and forth between the two newcomers, trying to understand how they had coordinated their species and pajamas so well, but the mental processing only served to addle and confuse his brain even further.

Finally, after a minute of silence, the turkey cleared his throat. "Ahem... ahem... uh... yodllɒɔ omiʞƨɘ ,bɘllɒɔ bnɒd ɒ ʇo bɿɒɘʜ uoy ɘvɒʜ ...ɘm llɘT?"

The rabbit and panda looked back at the turkey. The panda answered, ".oƨ ʞniʜƚ I ,ʜɒɘy ,ɿƎ"

The turkey nodded its missing head. "blɿow ɘʜƚ llɒ ni bnɒd ƚƨɘd ɘʜƚ ƨ'ƚi ƚɒʜƚ ɘɘɿǫɒ uoy ob ,ɘm llɘT .booǫ ,booᎮ"

The panda wearing the rabbit suit seemed to get excited and angry. "!ɿɘvɘ bnɒd ƚƨɘd ɘʜƚ ƨi ƚƨniɒǫɒ ɘƨiɿ yɒƨ I !on oИ"

The turkey did his best to try and placate the panda; "—ɘƚunim ɒ ƚiɒw ,no bloH"

The panda stamped his foot. "I ƚ'nƨɒw ,ʇlɘƨym ƨƚɿɘɔnoɔ ɿiɘʜƚ ʇo ɘno ƚɒ ɘɿɘʜƚ ƨɒw I !ɘvil ɿɘvɘ oƚ bnɒd ƚƨɘd ɘʜƚ ƨi ƚƨniɒǫɒ ɘƨiЯ"

The rabbit agreed with him. ".uoy wɒƨ I ⁏ɘɿɘw uoy ɘƨɿuoɔ ʇo ,ƨɘY"

"—ƚnɘmuǫɿɒ nɒ ƚɿɒƚƨ oƚ nɒɘm ƚ'nbib I ,yɿɿoƨ m'I"

But the panda bear ignored the turkey's attempt at peace making. "—ll'I !dmil moɿʇ dmil uoy ɿɒɘƚ ll'I !u ʞɘɿ ll'I 8m ,ƚow U ƚƨɘƚɒɘɿǫ ɘʜƚ ƨ'yodllɒɔ omiʞƨɘ ,nɒɘm uoy ob ƚɒʜW"

Finally, the cooked turkey had had enough. "!nɘƚƨil ,ɘɿɘʜƚ yɘH !ǫninɘƚƨil uoy ɘɿA ␚ɘƚunim ɘno ɿoʇ qu ƚuʜƨ ƚƨuႱ oy bluoW"

Before the altercation could break out into physical violence, the elevator doors opened, revealing a massive star field where the Corneria City skyscape should have been. At the sight of the dream-like sea of stars, Fox's jaw dropped open in wonder. "Whoa... it's beautiful..."

Through the ocean of stars, a massive, hulking figure lazily swam. As it neared the elevator box, it's true form became clear; it was a large, blue whale, swimming through the depths of space. It stopped, gently treading water in front of the group of passengers. Its mouth opened.

"Fox, it's me! Your father! Can you hear me? I swam all this way through space to see you!"

"Oh, yeah..." Fox said, as if something was expected of him. "So... how's life, dad?"

The whale fixed Fox with a suspicious glare. "Well, I'm a whale now, so that's something."

* * *

 **A/N: Bugger me, I'm out. Have a happy Thanksgiving!**


	2. Ep 2: Star Fox Plays Arcadia

**Star Fox Misadventures**

 **Episode 2: Star Fox Plays Arcadia**

* * *

 **A/N: If you want some sort of soundtrack to listen to, I wrote this under the influence of Madeon's _Adventure_. No intended correlation to the title, btw.**

* * *

In a bustling hangar, Fox was seeing the rest of his team off on a mission. Falco, Miyu, and Slippy all gathered around him, listening to his instructions.

"So I know this mission came up rather suddenly," Fox admitted, "but we've got to prove to my dad we're a serious merc outfit and can compete with his own. That's why I accepted on such short notice. You all know where we are, right?"

"Pshh, yeah! Of course I do!" Falco assured him as he folded his wings behind his head. "I was up all night reading the mission brief you sent out—"

Miyu elbowed him in the side. "He didn't send any information, you dimwit. Stop bluffing."

"Why didn't you give us any information beforehand?" Slippy asked, looking up expectantly at Fox.

The vulpine opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He looked extremely nervous, and the rest of his team could tell he would have bolted if not for the crutches he still had to use.

"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. It's... it's just another mission, after all."

Fox avoided their gazes by staring out over the hangar. He picked at his shirt's collar.

"Soooo?" Miyu chided him.

Fox coughed. "Um, it would appear that we got an emergency call from Princess... "Gamergirl," who claims she was kidnapped by one Dr... "Wurzel," who is holding her inside... "Playawon Palace.""

By the end of the reveal, Fox had squeezed his eyes shut and looked down at his feet.

"Princess _Gamergirl_?" Miyu asked skeptically.

"Dr. _Wurzel_?" Falco echoed.

" _Playawon_ Palace?" Slippy concluded.

Fox scratched at the back of his neck and attempted to look at his teammates. "Look, I know what you're thinking, and I agree that it's totally ridiculous, but this is the mission that's been offered to us. Space Colony Arcadia is a real place (we're here right now), Princess Gamergirl runs a constitutional monarchy, Playawon Palace is the royal estate, and Dr. Wurzel used to study at the University of Haverall. It all checks out; I did the research last night."

"You sure you're off your pain meds, Fox?" Slippy asked, scrutinizing his leader's face.

Ignoring the amphibian, Fox went on. "Your mission is to break into the palace, defeat Wurzel, and free the princess. But to do that, you'll need three magical powerite crystals."

" _Magical_?" his teammates said in unison.

"Magical AF. They'll open the Palace gates for you. You can find them hidden throughout Arcadia's different city districts. There should be a few in each district, actually. Collect at least three, and you'll be able to unlock Playawon Palace's gates. Dr. Wurzel will be a tough fight, so stock up on items and gear first."

"Whoa whoa whoa, Fox," Slippy stopped him. "It sounds like you're laying down the strategy for beating a video game, or somethin'."

Fox blankly stared back at Slippy, as if debating whether or not to tell him something. He looked at Falco and Miyu instead. "Anyway, I'm still recuperating, so I'll wait here in the _Great Fox._ I'll meet you back here when you get the reward. Oh, and you have to pay to get in. Okay-see-ya-later-bye!"

And before Falco could grab one of his crutches and run away like he usually did, Fox about-faced and hobbled off towards the mothership.

* * *

After paying entrance fees and passing through the airlock, the three remaining members of Star Fox entered into Arcadia. From the outside, the space colony had the appearance of a large, silver mushroom. On the inside, the station was much more colorful and decorative. The airlock opened into a large city encapsulated by a bright yellow sky-dome—a massive, curved screen with a live animation of a sun, sky, and clouds. Stone bulwarks divided Arcadia into various districts, like slices of pizza arrayed around a citadel in the middle. The domes and spires of Playawon Palace sparkled in the light of the artificial sky—a goal that would taunt them no matter where they went in the city.

"What's our first order of business?" Miyu asked. She planted her feet on the decorative cobblestone sidewalk, scanning the street corner.

"Splitting up sounds like the best approach," Falco stated, eyeing the street as well. "That way, we can each grab a... _"powerite"_ crystal on our own." He wrinkled his brow in distaste as he uttered the name. "Then we'll rendezvous at the palace when we each collect one."

While Falco and Miyu fleshed out their attack strategy, Slippy's attention wandered elsewhere. After leaning on a postal box, he noticed two dark slits close and re-open several times in quick succession. _Did that mailbox just blink at me?_ he thought as he peered at the blue-painted box. Shrugging it off, he returned to studying the rest of the street block.

Slippy wished he hadn't.

Just like the mailbox, the tree shading Star Fox from the artificial sky-dome also had eyes. And the sun. And the clouds. And the cars, and the buildings, and the benches, and the potted plants, and the red spotted mushrooms...

Slippy felt himself panicking. He began breathing erratically, and a sharp pain stabbed at his chest. Kneeling down on the sidewalk, he tried measuring each breath to calm himsel. But his eyes landed on the cobblestone path, where each individual stone also had eyes. He whipped out his wrist scanner, magnifying one of the rocks millions of times over. He began to sweat profusely.

Every single _molecule_ had eyes.

"...Slippy, try not to get mugged like last time, and Falco, no hookers," Miyu was just saying when Slippy hopped to his feet. He grabbed Miyu and Falco's arms, shoving them in different directions.

"Run!" he gasped, eyes bulging from their sockets.

"Hey, keep your slimy hands off!" Falco complained.

"R-run?" Miyu stammered. "From what?"

"Eyes! Eyes _everywhere_! Look!"

The other two members paused to glance confusedly around the block.

"Holy crap, he's right!" Falco exclaimed.

"Everyone, run, now!" Miyu commanded, bursting away from the group.

Slippy needed no more encouragement. Following Miyu's example, he ran towards a different sector of the city—hopefully a safer one. He barreled down side streets and alleys, carelessly bumping into tortoise-looking citizens and some unknown species of primates that wore mushrooms on their heads.

After reaching an open gate in the surrounding wall, Slippy slowed to a stop. Unused to so much physical exertion, he doubled over and stumbled through the archway into the next district. Hiding behind the nearest wall, the amphibian pressed his back up against the bricks and panted for breath.

Wiping the sweat from his head, Slippy stepped out of the dark alleyway... and fell directly into a cab that pulled up to the exit faster than he could notice.

"Welcome to the Candy Crash Cab service! Where to, sir?" the driver asked, looking over his shoulder at the bewildered frog.

Blinking his eyes, Slippy looked up at the driver, realizing he had fallen into the interior of a taxi. "Oh, uh, no thanks. I think I'll walk."

"You sure? First twenty minutes are free!" the orange-bearded monkey exclaimed.

"Sorry, but not right now," Slippy persisted. Sitting down on the backseat, the mechanic proceeded to scoot across the upholstery until he noticed his credit card vibrating. Pulling the card out, he looked at the tiny display, which showed 12 credits had recently been subtracted from it.

"Hey, I said I didn't want a ride!" Slippy cried angrily.

"Then why did you sit on the seat?" the cab driver asked, pointing.

Slippy followed his digit to the spot on the seat it indicated. **[Sit on seat! Only 12 credits!]** a dialogue-box on the upholstery read.

"That's not fair!" Slippy slipped out the other door and moved to the driver's door. He grabbed the handle, attempting to open the door—but his credit card vibrated again. "Seven credits deducted."

"Wha...?"

He took his hand off the door, revealing a dialogue box that read, **[Touch handle, 7 credits!]**

"But that wasn't there before!" Slippy argued. He took a step back on the pavement, but felt his card vibrate again. Looking beneath his foot, he saw yet another dialogue box sapping money from his card.

"No means no!" Slippy shouted, running away from the candy-colored taxi. The orange-bearded primate pulled the cab away from the alley, executing a three-point turn until he faced the same direction as Slippy.

"But it's a delicious ride!" the monkey shouted.

"Go away!" But each step Slippy took he felt more money disappear from his card. Looking down, he saw prompt after prompt appearing beneath his feet, and the Candy Crash Cab steadily gained on him.

"You don't understand! I must feed the candy frog!"

"Screw off!"

Slippy turned down another alley, but the driver expertly maneuvered the taxi in after him. At the end of the alley, the mechanic found himself boxed in. He would have attempted to scale the walls with his sticky hands, but dialogue boxes popped up on every brick, each one begging to relieve him of more money. The entire floor was covered in them as well.

" _Microtransactions,_ " Slippy hissed.

The colorful cab slowed to a stop behind him, and the orange-bearded monkey stepped out. "Deliciously sweet fun!" he beamed.

Thinking fast, Slippy whipped out his credit card. The constant drain of money had left it lighter than a feather. Holding the card aloft above his head, Slippy bent his legs and launched himself into the air. The credit card was so light that it carried him straight out of the alley and over the roof tops, the cab driver and his taxi growing smaller until they were nothing but tiny specks.

"Sweet," the primate cursed as he rubbed his orange pompadour.

Holding onto the credit card with his webbed hands, Slippy shouted down, "You'll never hook me! _I'm_ too smart for your business schemes! You'll have to chase me to the ends of the Lylat System to—"

His wrist comm beeped. Slippy glanced at the display.

It was a Candy Crash request.

* * *

On the other side of the space colony, Miyu found herself in a medieval-looking city. The majority of the buildings were made with rough stone walls and thatched hay roofs, while the streets were little more than muddy dirt paths. Even the villagers dressed dated clothes. The cumulative effect was enough to convince Miyu that she had stepped through some form of time portal or into a theme park.

After spending some time traversing the dirt streets, she happened upon a sinister-looking figure. In the same vein as the villagers, he was dressed in onyx-black armor that fit the time period. The creature was several feet taller than herself, but set within the spiked helmet was a green gem that maintained a cloud of shimmering aura—in all likelihood, the very powerite crystal she sought.

Miyu had been so enraptured by the glowing stone that she nearly failed to notice the villain's face. Beneath the iron visor, a grinning skull stared back at her. When she noticed its toothless smile and hollow eyes fixated on her, Miyu stopped in her tracks. It was too late to run; the knight had already spotted her.

The armor clad figure pointed a black spear at her. "Have you come for the powerite crystal, bitch!?"

Miyu took a step back, intimidated by the towering pillar of iron in her path. "Uh, yes? How'd you guess?"

"You'll have to take it over my dead body, bitch!"

Miyu took a second step back, raising her paws. "Whoa there, it doesn't have to come to that! I can pay for it or just find another one!"

"Get it!? Over my _dead body_!?" the skeleton cackled in a raspy voice. "Sometimes, I _crack_ myself up! Took one too many hits to the _funny bone_! But yeah, it's perfectly acceptable to fight me for it! Go ahead, shoot me with that blaster! I won't mind! I don't even have a mind—I'm a skeleton! Hahahahahaaaa!"

Though Miyu didn't understand the knight's beef, she didn't want to waste any time in claiming the powerite crystal. She raised her blaster and fired an energy bolt dead-center at the skeleton's armor. The bolt ricocheted off, striking a villager in the leg.

"I just wanted to be an adventurer like you!" the unlucky hare cried as he cradled his knee.

 _It's reflective!_ Miyu realized with horror.

Pointing a bony finger at the lynx, the knight said, "You have just challenged Garamond the Skeleton to a fight to the death! Which technically he's already lost... but en garde, bitch!"

As the knight sprang toward her, Miyu planted her feet and held her ground. She fired burst after burst at the skeleton, but no matter where she placed them, the energy bolts merely pinged off his armor. Even a direct hit to Garamond's skull accomplished nothing.

In an instant, he was upon her. Rather than use the business end of the spear, however, Garamond wielded the weapon like a quarter-staff. Miyu dropped her blaster and met the spear with both hands, grunting as the blunt force rattled her own bones. Her combat boots dug deeply into the muddy street, but she used the extra traction to shove the skeleton away. Going on the offensive, she swung a balled fist at Garamond's chest.

 _BONGGGGG_

Miyu clutched her paw, jaw dropping to emit a silent whine of pain. Garamond took the chance and struck Miyu across the head with his spear. The poor lynx saw a burst of stars, quickly followed by a sharp jab to the stomach by the butt end of Garamond's spear. The latter of the two moves sent her sprawling into a pool of mud.

For what seemed like hours, Miyu lay flat on her back in the filthy street, dazed and confused. Cupid-like Falco's chirped and flew in circles above her head, while the whole world seemed to spin.

Suddenly, a towering black figure appeared between her and Arcadia's sun. A skeletal hand reached down to her.

"Need a hand up, bitch!?"

Dazed and confused, Miyu accepted the bony appendage and let Garamond pull her up. Shaking the stars out of her vision, she asked, "Wha... why didn't you finish me off? Why did you help me up?"

"Aw, it's not like I have a bone to pick with ya, bitch! In fact, help yourself to a free tip; if you want to defeat me, you'll have to buy some armor from that store over there! The best you can find! Then you might actually have a shot at defeating me!"

"Oh... okay," Miyu said hesitantly, stumbling off in the direction of the shop. "Thanks, Garamond!"

"No problem, bitch!"

While Miyu headed towards the store, Garamond turned around to confront another villager. "What are _you_ looking at, bitch!? You want the powerite crystal, huh!?" The rooster vigorously shook his head and backed away, but Garamond pounced on him anyway. "Then you'll have to take it over my dead body! HAHAHA! Get it!?"

The unfortunate victim screamed as Garamond's spear launched him over the rooftops.

* * *

Falco had little more success than Slippy. The next section of the city he happened upon was completely cordoned off by yellow construction tape. Occupying the walled-in section of the city was a bare field of dirt and clay, populated by armies of construction vehicles. White tarps covered much of the area, concealing any of the progress the workers were making.

Despite being under construction, Falco figured the district would still contain the powerite crystal. He was about to duck beneath the construction tape when a paw grabbed his shoulder. "Hold it there, turbo; where do you think you're going?"

"Er, just tying my shoe," Falco answered the woman, pretending to fix his boot straps. _Smooth, Falco!_

Straightening back up, he came face-to-face with a female mink dressed in a business suit and hard hat. Despite having caught him attempting to sneak in, she smiled quaintly and extended a paw. "Welcome to D.L. City! My name's Electra Niccarts. Are you interested in checking this district out?"

"Yes, I am. There's no problem with me entering this sector, is there?"

"No-no, of course not. Go right ahead."

"Oh... thanks!" Falco bent down to duck under the tape again, but Electra grabbed his arm.

"Ugh... damn these boots! They keep coming untied!" Falco pretended to tie his shoes again.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to purchase access to D.L. City."

"Purchase access?" Falco parroted. "But I already paid good money to enter Arcadia!"

"Well, D.L. City is extra!" Electra explained happily. She held out a paw. "Now that'll be 120 credits, please."

The blue-feathered avian sighed and rubbed his face, trying to regain his composure. Lowering his voice, he said, "Listen, I'm just looking for something called a "powerite crystal." Do you think I could just have that without stepping into the district?"

"Oh, of course! If you pre-order access into D.L. City, we'll give you a powerite crystal on the day it opens!"

"When will that be?"

With her same giddy tone, Electra squeaked, "Two months from now!"

Falco sighed; there was no way he could wait that long. "Is there some sort of early access I could get involved in?"

"Nope! D.L. City's beta is closed!"

"Dammit!" Falco cursed under his breath, clenching his fist. Waving her off, he turned his back and headed towards another section of the city. "Look, sorry Miss, but I don't have time to wait around. I can find a powerite crystal somewhere else."

"Well, at least take my card!" the mink called after him, waving a white paper business card in the air. "Electra Niccarts! _It's in the city!_ "

"No it's _not_ in the city!" Falco shouted over his shoulder. "It's all _extra_! Either that, or it's locked behind a pay wall _inside_ the city!"

The mink fell to her knees, sobbing. "But what about the Season Pass?! You get an exclusive beanie cosmetic!"

Falco slammed on the brakes, grinding to a stop.

"Did you say... _beanie_ _cosmetic_?"

* * *

A bell rang as Miyu walked into the armory. Sidling up to the front counter, Miyu slammed her credit pack down on the wooden surface. "I want your strongest set of armor and your deadliest weapon! Money. Is. No. Object!"

The shopkeeper was initially startled by Miyu's frankness, but he adjusted his glasses and responded. "Credits?! _Credits?!_ You can't use credits here! For one, this is the Middle Ages; I could never scan that without a high risk of identity theft. And for another... what do you think this shop is for? This isn't pay-to-win district!" The lesula monkey leaned forward, shoving the credit pack back over the counter at Miyu. "God, you rich kids think you can just _buuuy_ your way through every single game nowadays. Where's the fun in that?"

"Well, are there any discounts I could get?" Miyu asked timidly.

"Eh, discounts?" the lesula said as he screwed up his face. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe for a girl who's trying to save Arcadia?"

The shopkeeper gave her a judgmental look through his square-rim spectacles. "Ohhh, I see. One of those hero-types, eh? Out to save the world, are we?"

"I mean, it only seems logical," Miyu said in a reasonable voice. "After all, if I don't get these items, I won't be able to save Arcadia, and, well, _you'd_ be destroyed with it, so—"

"You heroes are aaaall the same, aren't you?!" the lesula interrupted her. "You want everything handed to you on a silver platter. You're the only one of your kind in the whole universe, huh, _huh_? _The_ chosen one, right? You're all just special little snowflakes in your own unique ways. See, back in _my_ day, schools didn't grade with ffffff—" He glanced at the story rating. "Ffffreaking emoticons! And you're just saving the world so you can get all the fame and glory. It's us shopkeepers who always get sidelined in your shadow; the Luigis of the gaming world. We just sell you the items so you can go off and slay the dragon, kill the evil wizard, prevent apocalypse number 954. Well I'll tell you what; us shopkeepers never _asked_ to be saved!" And he slammed his hand down on the table for emphasis. "No ma'am! No discounts for hot-headed heroes! In fact, for heroes like you, I'm gonna _raise_ the price. How does that feel, huh!?"

"B-but I already make 77 percent as much as—"

"No 'buts'! It's pay up or GTFO!"

"Ohhh..." Miyu let out a moan of distress while desperately eying all of the over-powered weapons. "Alright, what _can_ I pay you with?"

"You need gold ingots, Miss. Get 'em from enemies, bosses, and quests. Maybe houses."

"And how many of those do I need to buy the best gear here?"

"A shit _-_ ton of _'_ em _."_

Miyu cursed and stamped the floor, glancing around the room helplessly. Was her only option grinding enemies for gold? That path could take days. Maybe she could call in Falco and Slippy to form a party...

Miyu fished in her pants pocket for her communicator. She had to dig through a large swath of lint and trash that had accumulated, which she ended up setting on the desk. At this, the shopkeeper's eyes grew wide.

"Saaaay! Now there's some stuff you could sell!"

Miyu froze with her hand in her pocket, then slowly turned to look at the lesula. "Huh?"

"I could take those items off your hands for a few gold pieces, if you'd sell 'em to me."

Miyu was utterly bewildered. She pointed to the ball of trash, talking slowly. "This is garbage I pulled from my pockets. I don't see why you would want—"

"Okay okay, I'll raise my offer. Five gold pieces!"

"No-no, you don't understand. This is all junk! It's worthless!"

"One ingot, and that's my final offer! I always let a good-lookin' woman take advantage of me," the lesula grumbled.

Miyu looked back and forth between the monkey and the gold bar he was offering her. It didn't make any sense to her. Yet, if she could sell her garbage for such a high price...

"Wait, I have more!" Miyu exclaimed, continuing to dig through her pants pockets.

"Splendid! Lay it out on the counter."

Miyu mentally thanked herself for never bothering to clean out her pockets. When all was said and done, the lynx had gathered piles of candy wrappers, half-eaten nutri-bars, several hair pins and bands, and a large bolus of lint. To her disbelief, the shopkeeper actually took out a jeweler's loupe and proceeded to appraise her trash, as if he were determining the value of a diamond. He looked up.

"Do you have anymore, ma'am?"

Miyu held up a finger, backing out of the shop. "Why yes, I do! I'll uh, be back in a jiffy!"

* * *

Proudly wearing his beanie, Falco emerged from the other side of D.L. City. While most of the district was concealed in white tarps, or hadn't even been built yet, at least he had still received his beanie.

Falco stepped through the gate between D.L. City and the next district. The new section of Arcadia was in an even worse condition than the last. While D.L. City was in its infancy, the district before him looked to be in the last stages of its life. Falco continued wandering the streets, eyeing the cracked pavement, garbage-lined roads, and void-filled windows. He was beginning to notice something strange about the city.

There was no sign of life anywhere.

"Helloooo!?" Falco called, cupping his wings over his beak. "Is anyone here?"

None of the houses or buildings looked to be occupied. Windows were shuttered with wood, doors were either barricaded or bashed in, and spray-paint graffiti covered 85% of the walls. Falco paused before one of such art-installments. He stepped back to take it all in.

Over a background of yellow, four over-lapping black circles were painted.

Falco frowned. "Well this can't be good..."

The sound of pattering feet approached Falco faster than he could react. A white blur rounded the corner at lightning fast speed, only to collide with Falco's torso. It knocked the wind out of Falco, and he stumbled backwards, but he managed to steady both himself and the newcomer.

"Whoa there, kid, where are you going in such a hurry?"

Setting the child at arm's length, Falco examined the young feline before him. The white-furred kitten couldn't have been older than ten or twelve, yet her dirt-stained dress already reflected the rest of the city's character. She appeared frightened at first, but then looked up at Falco and seemed to relax.

"Hi there, Mister!"

"Uh, hey... kiddo? You mind telling me what's going on with this city?"

"Oh, you're new here, aren't you? This place is called Tell-Tale Town."

"Tell-Tale Town..." Falco tested the name out on his beak. "Feels like a ghost town, doesn't it?"

At that moment, Falco noticed a ruby-colored crystal in the kitten's paw. "S-say! That's a powerite crystal, isn't it?"

"I don't know what it really is, but the last person I met said it was important." When Falco's hand began to greedily creep toward it, she held the crystal behind her back. "But he also told me to only give it to someone I trust! Can I trust you?"

"Sure you can, kiddo. Name's Falco. I've come to save Arcadia from one Dr. Wurzel." He extended his wing to the little girl.

The small cat shook it vigorously, though her grip couldn't compare. "Hello, Falco! My name's Kitty!"

"Kitty, huh?" Falco lowered himself onto his haunches so he was at her level. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Kitty! I was beginning to think I was all alone in this town. You got any parents here? You shouldn't be walking around by yourself."

"Oh, I don't have parents anymore. They're both dead. _Everyone's_ dead."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because it's a zombie apocalypse."

While Falco stared blankly at Kitty, the wind whistled through the streets.

…

"BrAInSSsssz!?"

Before either could react, a decomposing vixen rounded the corner and dove straight for Kitty. The red-furred corpse hungrily sank its teeth into Kitty's ankle, eliciting a horrific scream from the child. At first, all Falco could do was stand rooted in place and scream along with the kitten.

"AAAAAHHHH!"

 _"_ _Aaaaaaah!"_

"Mmmmm— _nomnomnom!"_

After getting over his initial shock, Falco sprang into action. "Hold on Kitty! J-just hold on!" The falcon grabbed Kitty's shoulders while at the same time repeatedly kicking his boot into the vixen's head. Each kick Falco dealt seemed to loosen her grip on Kitty. The vulpine was definitely one of the undead. Her body was badly charred, as if she had been through some life-ending explosion. Although her head was still in one piece, Falco would make sure it wouldn't be for much longer.

Finally, one last powerful kick crunched the vixen's head in. The corpse's jaw flapped open, and Kitty's leg came free. The young cat fell into Falco's arms, staining his shirt with her tears. As she continued to sob from the pain and frightening ordeal, Falco shushed her and gently patted her back.

"Shhh... it's okay, Kitty; it's all over with." But the avian blanched when he saw the zombie vixen lift her head once again. He nonchalantly kicked the head in a second time, still cooing to the feline to mask the noise. "Yesiree, everything's fine, Kitty. You're going to be alright."

"But... but it bit me!" Kitty sobbed, clinging to Falco's shirt. "That means I'm infected!"

Falco felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He stepped back and looked at the kitten's leg, only confirming his fears. Two crescents of bite marks punctured the feline's white fur, staining it red. A nasty purple color was already spreading up her leg. In all likelihood, she didn't have much longer to live.

A legion of zombies began to materialize in the street, trickling in from alleys and doorways.

"Look, Kitty, we have to run now!"

"Here, take the crystal! I can't walk!"

"Forget the crystal for now, kiddo." Fox knelt down and allowed the kitten to climb onto his shoulders. After standing back up, he took one last glance at the growing horde of zombie furries and sprinted in the opposite direction. "The crystal can wait; you just keep a hold of it. We have to get you to a surgeon. There must be other survivors around here, somewhere..."

* * *

Even though Slippy was hang-gliding well above the streets below, the Candy Crash cab still followed him. It was time to lose the manic driver and hide in a nearby building. Drawing his knees to his chest to take up as little room as possible, Slippy sailed through a second story window and planted his feet to skid to a stop. After slipping his credit card back into his wallet, he whipped around and shut the window. No sign of the taxi in the street below. For now, he was safe.

Slippy turned around to come face-to-face with an entire classroom of girl frogs. The horde of amphibians were all different shades of bright neon colors, and wore the same cute school uniform. Slippy gulped to keep from drooling; he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

A lemon-colored frog with blonde hair rose from her desk. "Students, this is our substitute teacher for the day, Ron Jones Sensei."

"Good morning, Sensei!" all of the students said, more or less in unison.

Slippy was suddenly brought back to reality. This was no heaven; it was real life. And Slippy was an introvert. Unable to stand the pressure of 30 cute girls watching him, he stumbled backwards against the whiteboard.

"W-w-whoa there, n-now I'm n-not y-y-your—"

Slippy happened to glance at the whiteboard, which was covered in equations and diagrams. He had stumbled into a sophomore aerodynamics course. Suddenly, he began to feel at home in the classroom with the familiar figures. He saw a chance before him... and he took it.

Slippy coughed, cleared his throat, and wiped the sweat from his globular head. "Why yes, I'm Ron Jones... Sensei. Learning aerodynamics, huh?"

The yellow frog bowed to him. "As student council president, I welcome you to this class! My name's Milly."

"Ah, well thank you, Milly. You all may call me Ron Sensei. Or just Sensei." He liked the sound of that.

Slippy experimented with aerodynamics for fun, so he jumped at the chance to teach it to a bunch of cute girls. Though he was always the most socially awkward person in his class, he was able to get over that setback through academics. The only way he was able to relate to his peers was when he helped them with homework or let them copy his answers. While he had never taught an entire class before, he found himself on a roll. The class _ooed_ and _awed_ at his work on the board, giggled when he cracked the usual cringy science teacher jokes, and watched him with attentive eyes. By the time the lunch bell sounded, Slippy was sorry to see them go.

While the students were filing out, however, the entire room flashed white, then was bathed in a blue light. The girls slowed down, then froze in place as if time had completely stopped.

"W-w-what just happened?" Slippy stuttered, but none of the students answered him.

Another white flash filled the room, this time accompanied by the appearance of a buzzing insect. Slippy's amphibian instinct said to grab the creature with his tongue, but he suppressed the urge. The bug flew in front of Slippy's face, who was forced to cross his eyes to bring it into focus. When his eyes combined the twin images, he realized it wasn't a bug at all, but a tiny frog with butterfly wings dressed in a tutu. The blue amphibian waved a heart-topped wand wildly about, and spoke with a barely audible voice.

"I am Princess Blueberry," it squeaked, "the magical love fairy!"

"What have you done to my students!?" Slippy demanded.

"Your students are safe, o Green One; I have merely stopped time for fun," the fairy explained. "But you seek the powerite crystals, yes? To this endeavor, I will prove a bless..."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, as Slippy waited for the fairy to finish her sentence.

"So do you—"

"—ing!"

Slippy glared at the fairy. "So do you know where they are?" he asked.

"The crystals are within your grasp. To get them, date girls in your class."

"I have to _date_ them? Whoa there, I-I've never dated anyone before! Can't I like... fight a boss? Win a math contest? Build powerite crystals synthetically? Please!? Anything but going on a d-d-d-d-date!"

"Calm your man tits, o Verdurous One. I will guide your courtship through this one. Only Your Grace will see me, and I'll help make things steamy."

"But... a _date?_ How do I even begin? I've never asked a girl out before!"

"Just let it come naturally," Princess Blueberry buzzed, "Oh, and don't fart flatulently." Then, with a wave of her wand, the blue light disappeared from the room, and the girls began moving once again.

There was nothing for Slippy to do but to try asking one out. He stood by the door to classroom 3C, but he couldn't work up the courage to ask anyone. In small clusters, the girls slipped out of the room, right past him. Before Slippy knew it, they were all gone. As he stared at the empty doorway, his shoulders slumped.

"E-excuse me, Sensei," a timid voice said from behind Slippy.

He turned around and was met by one of his students: a fiery-red frog with a resting bitch face that challenged anyone to make a pass at her—yet still unavoidably cute.

Before Slippy could open his mouth to speak, the same blue glow descended upon the room, and time stopped. A set of three glowing dialogue boxes appeared in front of him, each inscribed with a different greeting.

 **[Howdy!] [Hello] [Um, h-h-hi...]**

"You must choose your response wisely," Princess Blueberry whispered. "Wrong first impressions are pricey."

It didn't take Slippy too long to figure out what was going on.

 _It's like a dating simulator!_ he realized. Though the frog had never dated anyone in real life before, he was a pro at such games. He even had a let's play channel with several perfect walkthroughs on EweTube. Fuck me.

Slippy's finger moved towards the center selection, **[Hello],** but then he caught himself. In dating sims, one could not make such careless moves. Introductions required the most copious amounts of forethought. Judging from the girl's appearance (the red character design, the blush, the avoiding eyes, the bitch face), she was a tsundere archetype, and if he wasn't careful, she could quite literally end up killing him.

Slippy racked his brain for how to appeal to her archetype. Tsunderes usually paired with people that supplemented their personalities: introverts like himself. At this, Slippy was relieved; he wouldn't even have to act. **[Howdy!]** was much too forward. The trick was to get close with her, but not _too_ close. The coveted "Tsundere Field"—the Goldilocks Zone between a romantic partnership and the Friend Zone. If he was too forward with his response, he'd scare her away. **[Hello]** would deal an equal amount of damage. That opening was too removed from romance and would tip his tight-rope walk into the Friend Zone. **[Um, h-h-hi...]** was just perfect. Tsunderes wore the pants in the relationship, and, even if he were a teacher, he could still play the beta male.

Without further hesitation, he selected the last option. Time returned to normal again.

"Um, h-h-hi..."

The girl blushed as she approached him, her eyes looking anywhere but at his own.

"I need some help with my homework," she explained.

 **[Let's go to the cafeteria] [Let's go to your house] [Let's go to Antelope Coffee]**

Time froze again, and Slippy was presented with a new set of choices. Her archetype's flaw was pride, meaning she detested being seen with her love interest. That ruled out the cafeteria, as everyone would see them together. If there was one thing that defined tsunderes, it was their refusal to admit their love for the protagonist. It was much too early on in their relationship to stop by her house; the average figure was 3.7 dates before the house was a feasible option. The coffee shop, on the other hand, was small and tucked away from the public eye. The perfect haunt.

"W-w-whoa, are you asking me on a date!?" she trilled.

 **[Uh, um, no! Of course it's not a date! Just a study session!] [Hell yeah I am!] [Only if you want it to be...]**

Slippy chose the first option without having to debate much in his head; his dating sim skills were rapidly coming back to him.

"You watch yourself, Sensei!" the red frog harrumphed as she placed her hands on her hips.

* * *

Sporting a backpack she had picked up off the street, Miyu went to the first townhouse she could find and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so she knocked a second and third time. When no one came to the door, she shifted her weight back and forth between her feet and stared up and down the street. No one was watching, so why not go for it? It was for the good of Arcadia, after all.

Miyu tried the knob and was surprised to find it unlocked. She opened the door and stepped inside the flat, only to find the townhouse occupied by a husband and wife. She froze on the doormat, shrinking back in guilt. "Oh, uh, I'm terribly sorry, it's just that I uh, well..."

Something seemed off about the spouses. The wife stood like a cardboard cutout in the kitchen, while the husband sat in an armchair smoking a pipe. Neither of them moved or even acknowledged Miyu. Making things even stranger, the wife had a glowing " **!** " over her head.

"Ma'am? S-sir?"

Miyu left the door open as stepped further into the house. She leaned over beside the man, waving her hand in front of his face. His eyes didn't twitch.

Miyu straightened back up. "Well this is an interesting development. I guess you won't mind me taking out your trash? If you have any objections, speak now or hold your peace!"

They continued staring blankly off into space.

Miyu set to work scavenging around the house for trashcans and bags. In the kitchen, Miyu noticed a plastic trashcan that looked promising. She scooped off the lid and bent over to dig around inside, but in the process her tail swatted a cookie pot on the counter. The jar wobbled for a second, then tipped over and shattered on the floor.

Miyu took in a quick gasp of air, but again, the husband and wife didn't seem to notice. Then her eyes were attracted to the sparkling contents of the jar. Scooting around the pottery pieces with her foot, Miyu uncovered a green emerald-looking diamond the size of her fist. What it was doing in the cookie jar, why there was only one, and why the owners didn't mind her finding it, she would never know. But, being an opportunist, Miyu pocketed the jewel and surveyed the rest of the house.

She was pleased to find that hundreds of similar pots filling most every closet and shelf in the house. Like a bull in a china shop, Miyu smashed each one. She sometimes turned up empty handed, but usually found a green, blue, or even red gem.

After she had smashed every pot in sight, Miyu moved onto raiding the silverware from the drawers and clothes from the closets. Each item she chucked into the backpack, which turned out to be a veritable bottomless pit. Could she fit the entire district down the limitless gullet? Miyu was determined to find out.

By the fifth house Miyu realized she could simply open the tops of the pots instead of smashing them on the floor.

* * *

"I'm back!" Miyu huffed as the store's doorbell rang. With much difficulty, she swung her bottomless backpack onto the counter. While the bag could theoretically hold an infinite inventory, the limiting reactant was Miyu's own strength. She may have been stronger than both Fox and Falco, but the lynx still had her limitations.

"Let me have it!" the lesula monkey ordered.

Without hesitation, Miyu raised the bag up and poured the contents onto the shopkeeper's desk. A sea of multicolored gems poured out, along with items more fitting for a neighborhood yard-sale or a junk yard. The stream of materials never seemed to end until a giant mound had built up on the counter, spilling over the sides and nearly drowning the shopkeeper.

The lesula eventually dug his way out, poking his face above the goods. The rest of his body remained buried.

"This'll buy you anything in the store, miss. Take your pick of weapons and armor!"

"Hmmm..." Miyu left the register to scan the armor racks. She paused beside a set of onyx-colored armor, outfitted with fierce-looking spikes at every joint. "This looks menacing enough. How does it compare with the rest?"

"You could buy the entire shop if you wanted to, but you pick that old thing? Keep looking. The stats of the armor increases as you go to the right of the racks."

"Oh, thanks." Miyu gradually worked her way down the line of armor, glancing and admiring each set. Yet the stronger the sets were, the less there appeared to be of them. They started out as full body suits, but then were scaled down to chest plates and shoulder pads, bodices, brassieres, and then little more than glorified bras. The final armor set consisted of a matching diamond thong and bra—the bra little more than two Dorito-sized triangles held loosely apart by platinum chains.

Enraged, Miyu grabbed the rack and held it out to the shopkeeper. "Okay, what the hell is this!?" She stormed over to the counter and slammed the set down on it. "My _tits_ are bigger than—" Miyu's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with a paw. Glancing around to make sure no other customers could hear, she leaned in and whispered, "My _nipples_ are bigger than these bra cups!"

"I know, that's the idea ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)"

"Don't you make that face at me, you sicko!" Miyu shouted, raising her voice again. "I can't go out in public like this! You know how humiliating wearing this would be? People would think I'm some kind of stripper! I am _not_ just another throw-away fanservice character from Star Fox!"

"Oh, I dunno about that. Ever seen you DeviantArt page? It sure is something ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)"

"Look, why can't I just wear the men's armor? It offers much more coverage and protection, and-and look at that beastly thing!" Miyu pointed at the highest ranked suit of men's armor. "It's got diamond spikes coming out of its ass! It's got spikes on its goddamn _spikes_! And you want me to wear this glorified piece of string?"

"You shouldn't have made your avatar a female during character creation, unless you were prepared for this ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)"

"Are you kidding me!?" Miyu shouted. "You think I had a choice!?"

"You're probably just a man anyways," the lesula sighed, "come to seduce goods off of other players and storekeepers like me. Well, I can play that game if you want, it's fine by me ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)"

"GAAAAH!" Miyu threw her hands up in the air as she let loose a gutteral scream, frustrated with the tables turned against her. She slumped down to her knees, banging her head repeatedly on the side of the counter. After her fit of rage ebbed away, she spoke to the shopkeeper again. "Is there any other set of armor that covers more?"

"None that can stand up to Garamond," the monkey said happily.

"Ughhh..." Miyu buried her head in her arms.

"You know... sometimes the best defense is a good offense."

The lynx raised her head, hopefully. "What do you mean?"

"Why don't you go for a completely offensive strategy? Forget the armor; only use weapons! See that crystal spear over there? The one that looks like a decorative halberd? That's the best I've got! Best in all of Arcadia! One swing is all you need to defeat Garamond; I guarantee it!"

Miyu raised herself up and sidled over to the barrel of spears and axes. She hefted the spear out of the barrel, testing out its weight. "I've always been partial to melee combat," she mused, remembering many a time when she left Fox or Falco on their seats in the sparring ring. "You know, I think you've hit on something. I'll take it! At least weapons can't be gendered and sexist."

"That spear has a juicy pole-dance animation ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)"

Miyu's knuckles turned white around the spear's shaft. For a moment, she just stood there, shaking with rage. Then, without any screaming or yelling, she calmly turned... and hurled the spear through the window. While the glass shattered outwards onto the street, Miyu slowly walked out the door.

She knew what had to be done.

* * *

"There! Up ahead!" Kitty cried in Falco's ear. Sure enough, a portion of the city had been barricaded to defend against the undead. Whatever survivors remained in the town had blocked off a city park bordering an artificial lake. The alleys leading to the park were cordoned off by plywood walls, while iron gates fenced off the area beneath an archway leading into the park. With Kitty on his back and zombies on his heels, Falco sprinted the remainder of the way to the settlement.

When he slowed to a stop in front of the iron gates, Falco was relieved to see two survivors guarding the entrance. They jumped to their feet at his approach, but made no move to open the gates.

Falco kicked furiously at the iron bars. "Let us in, quick! Can't you see the zombies are after us?!"

"Don't let them in, Kenny," warned the first guard, a badger with a beer gut. "They could be infected."

"Then again, Larry, could be they're s'vivors just like us," Kenny shot back in a southern drawl. The deer sported a handlebar mustache and a red hunter's cap, and carried a rifle by his side.

"Look at the girl!" Larry spat, pointing accusingly at Kitty's wounded leg. "That's a walker bite if ever I saw one. There's no way in hell I'm letting them in here!"

"They're getting closer!" Falco whined, glancing over his shoulder. "Let us in, dammit!"

"Aw, Larry, don't you have a heart?" Kenny chided him. "Maybe there's something we can do for the girl? We can't just let them die out there."

"No dice," Larry shot back in a gruff voice. "We're not jeopardizing the entire group for one scrawny girl! There's barely any meat on her bones."

"Wait, what? Excuse me?" Falco asked, completely shocked.

"But what if we're wrong and we _can_ save 'em?" Kenny said, speaking up in favor of the avian and feline.

"Use your damn head for once!" Larry shouted, turning on Kenny. "Why risk our group of fifteen survivors for just these two, huh? HUH?! The majority takes priority, Kenny! You'll let these two in over my dead... my dead..."

Larry began choking for breath. He dropped his own gun, placing a hand over his heart and working his lips like a fish out of water. While he sank to the ground helplessly, Kenny took the opportunity to open the gate.

After Falco and Kitty rushed in, Kenny slammed the gate shut, just in time to stop the oncoming horde from following. One of the zombies—a red panda dressed in bloodied white robes—fell against the gate, extending his claws through the bars. " _Op_ _p_ _aaaaaai..."_

Turning back to Falco, Kenny said, "Glad to have you with us. Not a whole lot of the livin' 'round here these days. Don't mind Larry; he's got a high blood pressure."

"Thanks Kenny, we owe you one," Falco said, nodding to the deer.

"Aw shucks, don't mention it," the redneck returned. "Hey, you'll find the rest of the group in the park. We're trying to escape this city before... _they_ get us. We got room for two more in our party, I think."

"Alright, Kenny: see you around!" Falco turned with Kitty and rushed into the park, leaving the deer and badger to deal with the zombie furries attempting to break in.

The park consisted of a garden courtyard walled in by buildings, shops, and blockaded alleys in between. On one side, the courtyard opened onto a wooden dock that bordered a lake. An artificial island floated a mile offshore, while a small motorboat was docked beside the park. At the edge of the dock, a group of nine citizens were huddled together... though they appeared to be arguing.

Falco and Kitty were soon spotted. One of the survivors—a female badger younger than Larry—rolled her eyes. "Oh great: here come two more. Now we have _13_ members to feed, clothe, and protect."

"Hey, this girl needs medical attention!" Falco said as he slipped Kitty off his shoulders. "Is there anyone among you who practices medicine?"

"I was a lifeguard, once!" a teenage bear spoke up, raising a hand. "I know first aid!"

 _Well... that's better than_ _nothing, I guess..._

"Ah! The brat's been infected!" the badger trilled. "Throw her into the ocean—before she becomes a walker!"

"A _walker_?" Falco repeated. "You mean a _zombie_?"

"Calm down, Lilly," a female otter shushed her. "She won't turn into one of the undead for a while."

"But what if she bites one of us?" Lilly continued, frantically. "Just one of us gets bit, and before sundown, all of us will be the walking dead!"

"Zombies, right?" Falco once again interjected.

"If we patch the wound up, we might stop her from becoming a lurker," the otter said.

"Guys, if you mean zombie, just say _zombie._ "

"I didn't see you jumping to your feet to save me and my father from the creepers, Carley!" Lilly shot back.

"Alright, now you're just making shit up."

"We have to save as many people from the sorta-dead-but-not-really-dead-because-they-still-walk as we can!" Carley argued.

"So what, are zombies not PC or something?" Falco asked with frustration.

"Fine: the girl can stay," Lilly huffed, crossing her arms. "But now we have to decide how many of us get to ride the boat to the island."

"I'm sure _you'll_ be one of those lucky few," Carley said under her breath.

"I heard that!" Lilly exclaimed, indignant. "Why don't we let our newcomer decide. It's up to you, bird; which of us should be allowed on the boat?"

"What? _Me_ decide? I barely even know you people! I don't even have any authority here. I literally just joined this group a few paragraphs ago—"

"You're the only one who has an unbiased opinion," Carley explained. "For once, I agree with Lilly on something."

"You see, there are now 13 of us in this group, and the boat only has room for ten max," Lilly went on.

"Ugh..." Falco moaned, looking over the survivors he had to choose from. "Well, let's start with the women and children first, I guess?"

"Oh, and the men suddenly aren't important?" Lilly said indignantly, placing her hands on her hips. "Who will be there to fend for them? To make supply runs back on the mainland?"

"Oh right... and for _repopulation_..." Falco murmured, stroking his chin. "In that case, we'll let nine women go to the island, and then... me! How does that sound?"

Both Lilly and Carley covered their faces, shaking their heads in disbelief. At that moment, however, Larry and Kenny joined up with the group.

"Aren't you supposed to be guarding the front gates, Dad?" Lilly asked.

"There was nothing we could do, really; they're iron bars, so it's not like leaning against them will do any good. And the zom—er, I mean the _walkers_ can reach through and grab us—"

"There!" Falco exclaimed, pointing triumphantly at Larry. "You said it! You were going to say _zombies_!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, bird," Lilly huffed, "but we still need to decide who gets to board the boat!"

"Fine!" Falco squawked, "I'll stay behind. That leaves your group at 12, right?"

"Falco, no!" Kittty cried, grabbing onto his leg. "You can't stay here! You'll get bitten, too! I don't want you to die!"

Falco knelt down and patted Kitty on the back, comforting her. "It'll be fine, Kitty; I can get along on my own. Plus, I have friends out there I need to find."

"I'm afraid the girl will have to stay with you!" Larry said. "Last come, first to go. Plus, there's no point in bringing the brat along if she'll just eat us in our sleep."

Kenny got up in the badger's face, staring him down. "Now don't go starting this again, Larry."

"Guys, stop fighting!" Falco pleaded. "It's okay; I'll take care of her for as long as I can, okay? That brings it down to eleven, right? Any other volunteers to stay behind?"

The wind whistled through the park, and the lake lapped against the side of the dock as no one answered."

"...Anyone?"

"I got yer volunteer right'chere," Kenny growled, still locked in a glaring contest with the badger.

"Oh! Thank you, Ken—"

"I volunteer Larry to stay!"

" _I_ should stay behind?!" Larry cried indignantly. "Why should it be me? Why don't _you_ stay here, if you're so courageous?"

"Falco, this boat ain't big enough for the two of us," Kenny spat through gritted teeth. "You'll have to decide which of us stays: me? Or Larry?"

"Yes, choose wisely, bird," Larry commanded him.

"Larry, I choose you!" Falco immediately responded.

Lilly stepped in front of her father, challenging Falco. "What have you got against my dad? Anyone can tell there's bad blood between you two. Can't you make a fair, unbiased decision?"

"No, he's got a point," Carley said as she scratched her chin. "Larry's the elder of the two, and he suffers from a heart condition. There's no telling when he'll wake up as a walker one night and bite us in the ass."

"And he was going to turn Kitty away because she was bitten!" Falco added, pointing accusingly at Larry.

"Well what did you expect me to do?" Larry asked, raising his hands. "Some stranger shows up at our door with a _bitten_ girl and expects us to just take care of her? I was thinking of the greater good here!"

"It don't change the fact that I'm fizzy-caw-lee stronger than this cock-sucker," Kenny asserted. "Look at 'em; he's fat, and got sausagey fingers! Probably never worked a hard day's work in his life... besides pushing a pencil at the office and sweatin' under his pits! I, on the other hand, deal in agriculture. I know my fair share of huntin', and could feed this group by myself! I can hunt, trap, fish, and farm. What do you say to that, Larry?"

"That's... that's child's play!" Larry stumbled. "But I bet you don't have any smarts! Probably don't have more than a high school diploma, judging from that loose mouth you got on ya. I'll tell you what I've got that he doesn't got: brains. Walkers don't even spare Ken here a second glance! Oooh, snap! Am I right, ladies? He may have strength along with the bare basics of survival, but I graduated with a master's degree in engineering! He'll craft you fishing nets; I'll build you dams and harness the power of hydraulics! He'll fashion you bows and arrows; but I'll build you guns from scratch! Clearly, brains is the better choice in this situation."

"Ugh, you guys aren't making it any easier!" Falco growled, tearing at his head feathers. "Okay, so Kenny is strong and knows how to hunt, but isn't the sharpest pair of antlers in the herd. And Larry has technological capabilities, but he's lazy and could drop dead from a heart attack at any second. I think I'm leaning towards Kenny here—"

"Whoooa, look what I found here!" Lilly exclaimed as she waved a manilla folder in the air. "It's Kenny's criminal record!"

"How the hell did you get that?" Falco asked, dumbfounded.

"It says here that Kenny was charged with multiple accounts of manslaughter for killing _Lylatians_ on his hunting trips!"

"No, seriously, how the frick did you get that folder?"

"It's not my fault Lylatians and dumb animals look alike!" Kenny exclaimed in his own defense.

"You shot your own wife's brains out!"

"She was a deer!"

" _And_ mounted her head in your basement!"

A tan-colored object fell from the sky, striking Carley in the back of her head. She rubbed the sore spot while stooping over to pick up the object at her feet, rising back up with a second manila folder.

"It's Larry's criminal file!" Carley flipped it open eagerly while Falco shielded his eyes and peered up at the sky. "Oh my! You won't _believe_ who's a sexual predator! I think it's safe to say Larry's middle name is 'Uncle.'"

" _You're_ a sexual predator?" Falco exclaimed, gaping at Larry.

"So Larry's cucumber has explored a few more frontiers than it should have," Lilly said defensively. "We can put that all behind us, right? Besides, Kenny has shot _way_ more people on "accident" than Larry has fingered."

"Whoa there! I'm not letting a rapist on that island with you women and children!" Falco stated, protectively drawing Kitty closer to himself. "What's to keep him from doing it again, huh?"

"Well, what's to keep Kenny from shooting more people while going on all those hunting expeditions?" Larry countered.

"AHHH!" Kitty screamed, pointing at the iron gates. "The walkers! They're breaking through!"

All heads turned to the park's entrance. The zombified anthropoi were piling against the gate, causing the iron bars to creek under their weight.

"Falco, you have to choose fast!" Carley pleaded. "The walkers will break in any minute!"

"But you can't make a hasty decision!" Lilly reminded him. "Our group of survivors will have to live with your choice for the rest of our lives!"

"GAAUGH! Will you just let me sort this out?!" Falco shouted.

* * *

Miyu sat on an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, nervously twiddling her thumbs. It was embarrassing sitting in the crowded room among so many other patients, all of whom were there for the same reason. The fact that she was only dressed in a hospital gown didn't help, either.

 _Am I doing this? Am I_ really _doing this?_ she repeated to herself. It would certainly make life easier. No ogling gazes, no asking if she was married, no unsolicited dick pics, no more periods... _Mr. Lynx._ She'd have to get used to that. Was there a male version of 'Miyu'?

The door to the waiting room opened, and the patients glanced in unison at the newcomer. Of all people, it was Garamond: the boss skeleton Miyu had lost to earlier. No one seemed to think much of his appearance, however. They returned to whatever they were doing—reading magazines, twiddling thumbs, sweating buckets. On the other hand, Miyu was shocked—doubly so when the armored skeleton clunked over in his suit of armor and plopped down in the chair next to her.

"Garamond? What are you doing here?" Miyu's eyes widened. "You're not getting a—"

"Are you crazy? At _this_ stage in my life?" Garamond cackled. "I'll let you in on a little secret; everyone turns asexual eventually, if you catch my drift. So, by the time you die, your sex won't matter. Male, female, hermaphrodite... whoosh, gone. That's why you have to cherish it. After all, I should know; I'm dead!"

Miyu rested her chin in her hands and leaned forward, frowning. "So what, you're Mr. Nice Guy now? What happened to 'bitch' and exclamation points and throwing people into the air?"

Garamond sighed, sinking deeper into his tin can armor. "There is a time and a place for everything, including games. But the choice before you is a serious one—one that requires serious dialogue. I heard what happened at the item shop from the store keeper, and I managed to track you here. I wanted to ask you, why are you going through with this?"

"I'm just sick of being sexualized all the time," Miyu admitted, her nose wrinkling up. "It's hard being a female character in the video game industry. My only debut was scrapped along with _Star Fox 2,_ yet somehow my artwork ends up all over DeviantArt and Rule34... most of it demeaning, too."

"Are you not proud of your beauty? Even I can see how pretty you are, and that's coming from a skeleton who can't feel one iota of lust; a person with a perfectly objective lens. As ironic as it might seem, skeletons of all people can't get boners."

"I thought you said you'd be serious?" Miyu said, glaring at him.

"I am being serious; serious from the heart." He clenched his fist and struck his chest, but it only made a hollow clanging sound. "But I take it you see your beauty as more of a curse than a blessing?"

"I'm a mercenary, for gosh' sake," Miyu hissed. "It's hard facing a stigma that the rest of my teammates won't ever have to deal with. A woman on a merc team? I don't receive the same amount of respect Fox, Falco, or even Slippy do."

Garamond coughed into his fist. "Oh, I uh, would assume there's plenty of Fox and Wolf fan-art out there, too; probably more than there is of you, I shouldn't wonder. Becoming a man won't change any of it. You'll just attract a different audience."

The boss placed an arm around Miyu's slumped shoulders, conveying as much warmth as a skeleton could muster. "There are plenty of reasons to swap your sex, Miyu. But becoming a man because it seems easier isn't one of them." He began pointing around the room to the different patients. "Link over there wants to become Linkle and appeal to more fans. Kung Furry wants to be able to fondle his own _oppai._ That wrestler wants to join a kawaii metal band. Pinocchio wants to become a real boy. Panther wants to be honest with himself."

At the sound of his name, a jet black leopard got up from his chair and ducked out the door, hiding his face from Miyu with his gown.

"Look at it this way, Miyu. If you were a man, it wouldn't be fair to everyone else. You're already the most powerful girl in Star Fox; stronger than Fara, Krystal, or Katt. If you became a male, there'd by no societal handicaps to hold you back. This is a challenge, Miyu. Womanhood is a gift, but also a challenge. You show those McCloud and Lombardi fellows that you can be a better man than they are, all while being a woman!"

It was impossible for Miyu to _not_ get rallied up by Garamond's speech. She looked up with a dour face at the grinning skull, doomed to always smile no matter the situation. She smiled back.

"You know what? I've made up my mind. I've got this. I can stay a woman."

"Atta girl, Miyu!" Garamond slapped her on the back. "I knew you could do it!"

"So, what do I do now?"

"You go back to the item store, buy that skimpy suit of jewelry, and wear it proud! You've gotta _own_ being a woman!"

"Heck yeah!"

" _Heck_ yeah!"

Miyu jumped up from her seat, then blushed as she remembered the single-layer hospital gown.

* * *

"I'll take the thong!"

Miyu stormed into the item shop, brandishing the spear she had thrown through the window earlier. Garamond rattled in his armor close on her heels.

"Now that's just juuuuicy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)" the lesula shopkeeper hummed. "Grab anything else you want. I finished appraising your junk and am happy to announce you've bought half the town!"

Miyu grabbed the diamond bra and thong from the rack once again, but to the monkey's chagrin, she fastened them on over the rest of her clothes.

"Hey, wait a minute," the shopkeeper frowned. "Now that's just not cricket."

"Well, Garamond, I'm ready to fight. Shall we go out onto the street?"

The skeleton sized up the shop. "How 'bout we do it right here, bitch!?"

"Here? In the shop?" Miyu asked.

"Right here! Come at me with everything you've got!"

"E-everything? Well, I don't want to accidentally hurt you—"

"What're you afraid of, bitch!? Give it your all! Throw your weight behind that spear!"

Miyu readied the spear and flexed her arms. She huffed, crouching into a fighting stance ready to lunge at Garamond. "Well, here goes round two. HIYAAA!"

The lynx sprung forwards, clearing the distance between the two in no time at all. Before Garamond could block with his own spear, Miyu's weapon caught him in the chest plate, tearing a hole straight through his armor.

Miyu stumbled back in horror as the skeleton wheezed and gargled, jaw flapping open as he clutched at the spear piercing his ribcage. Blue flames burst from the gaps in his armor, and from his vacant eye sockets. Garamond began emitting a horrible death screech, increasing in intensity with each passing moment. The flames grew larger and larger, until a column of blinding sapphire light enveloped the boss.

Then, in a flash, the fire, armor, and skeleton were all gone. All that was left behind were Miyu, her spear, and the powerite crystal from Garamond's helmet.

"G-G... Garamond?" Miyu stuttered in a high-pitched voice. She sunk to her knees beside the crystal, staring at her reflection in its faceted surface. Had she just killed her only friend in Arcadia?

"Well, I warned you the spear was OP," the shopkeeper spoke up. "That spear defeats enemies with one blow. It's what you paid for and earned, after all, but... kinda takes the fun out of the game, if you know what I mean. Welp, at least you got your powerite crystal, am I right?"

Miyu's eyes trembled with tears at the loss of her friend. Sniffing, she swept up the crystal and stood up. She hurled it at the lesula, who ducked and hid behind the counter.

"You can keep your damn crystal for all I care!" Miyu spat. And with that said, she stormed out of the shop for the last time that day.

* * *

Falco, Lilly, and Carley were seated on the pavement with their sleeves rolled up, the rest of the survivors watching their handiwork. All three were drawing furiously with pieces of chalk, littering the stone floor with a matrix of equations and inter-related formulas.

Falco sat up, scratching the back of his neck. "Okay, so if we factor in Larry's life expectancy, current age, the life expectancies and ages of the rest of your group... the factor that no law enforcement is present on the island... the amount of people he's assaulted in the past divided by the time it took him to accrue that number... aaaand Larry will average 45.7 fingerings a year."

"But that's not taking into account the possible population increase our group may undergo within that time," Carley said pointing with her piece of chalk.

"Exactly," Falco agreed. "To figure that out, we take the birth rate for each of the female species present and insert them back into Larry's life expectancy, etc... and consider the fact that birth rates will experience an average increase of 8% given Larry's activities... and the fingering rate increases to an average of... 24.37 survivors per year? That can't be right..."

"Wait a minute," Larry squatted down and directed Falco's attention to a set of scribbles. "You took the derivative here instead of the anti-derivative."

"Oh, thanks! That would bring the number to... 48.5!"

The zombies interrupted their math session, moaning and shaking the iron bars of the gates with new abandon.

"Oh, hurry, Falco!" Carley urged him.

"I am, I am!" Falco exploded, fanning his wings like windmills. "Don't rush me! We still have to calculate the rate at which Kenny accidentally shoots people on hunting trips, then find a conversion constant to compare the ethical wrongdoings of murder and rape! Now, if Kenny has been on 39 hunting trips, and killed a total of 15—"

"Can't you speed it up a little!" Larry shouted, losing his patience. "I want to be out of here by November so I can vote for Tru—"

 _ **BANG**_

Larry's limp body crumpled to the ground, revealing Falco's smoking blaster.

Seconds after his blaster went off, the deafening noise was followed by a loud _clang_ as the iron fence and gate fell inwards. It was as if the dam had burst; a flood of zombie animals tumbled inwards, crawling over each other like mindless insects in their search for food.

"Father!" Lilly sobbed out, falling to her knees beside the motionless beer-bellied badger. As she attempted to shake him back to life, Carley grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away while Kenny directed the rest of the survivors towards the ship.

"Kitty? Kitty, stay with me!" Falco scooped up the girl and slung her onto his back, taking off across the park. He scanned the buildings and allies for any exit _not_ occupied by zombies, but had no success. He fled back into the center of the park, spinning around in all directions to keep track of the zombies' positions.

"Falco, Falco I'm scared! I don't like this..."

"Shhh, it's okay Kitty, I can get us out of here; you just hold on tight."

"But the walkers are gonna get us!"

Falco narrowed his eyes at the breached gate. It was the only path leading out of the enclosed park, but it too was populated by the undead, slowly trickling in.

"I'd like to see them try!" he answered with determination.

Shifting Kitty's weight on his shoulders, he burst into a sprint towards the fallen gates. At the sound of his hurried footsteps, the zombies staggered and crawled towards him, closing the gap in the horde inch by inch.

"We're not gonna make it, Falco!" Kitty wailed, tightly gripping the falcon's neck.

The gap was completely closed off, but Falco had no intention of stopping. He barreled into the wall of rotten flesh, barging his way through the undead crowd. Claws and talons reached for the pair, but Falco pitched and ducked to avoid them, sometimes juking the zombies or elbowing them out of the way.

Seconds before bursting through the opposite side of the horde, a delinquent zombie stuck out his foot and tripped the avian. As Falco flew through the air he felt Kitty's weight disappear from his shoulders, followed by a high-pitched scream. Kitten, avian, and crystal all landed on the street, with Falco in the middle.

"FALCO!"

Falco looked up to find Kitty crawling on the ground, a zombified terrier reeling her in by the ankles. He looked in the other direction, finding that the crystal was almost overridden by zombies. He could only save one.

Unlike the other decisions that day, this one was easy to make. Falco scrambled on his haunches towards Kitty. Grabbing her paw, he pulled and screamed, "Kitty, don't let go! DON'T LET GOOOOO!"

* * *

Miyu was the first to arrive at Playawon Palace. The thick wooden gates towered above her, taunting. Not only had she killed the only friend she had made in Arcadia, but she had come back empty handed. Would Falco and Slippy tease her for failing her part of the mission?

Without the crystals needed to get inside, all Miyu could do was wait. She sat down cross-legged in front of the gates. She stared back over the courtyard at the fountain, then at the broiling artificial sky above. The sky dome looped an animation of dark clouds funneling around the palace like a hurricane, as if a final battle were about to take place there.

Eventually, the lynx noticed a blue blob of feathers slinking across the courtyard. Standing up, she realized it was Falco. The pheasant-falcon was crawling on all fours like a lost soul crawling through the desert without water. One of his feathered-hands clawed desperately at the cobblestone, while the other seemed to be clutching something.

Miyu rushed over to his side, standing above him. "Falco? Are... are you okay?"

Her voice barely registered with Falco. He looked up from his prone position on the ground, but he stared right through her.

"Falco, what's wrong? I-I've never seen you like this before!"

He finally seemed to notice her, but was only able to answer with incoherent babblings. "TheymadememakehorribledecisionsbetweenlifeanddeathandthegirlIlostherIcouldn'tsaveherItriedeverythingIcouldbutshesheshesheIlostandsheis..."

While Falco continued mumbling, Miyu zeroed in on the object Falco held in his hand. It was a severed white paw, stained with blood.

Before the lynx could comfort him, a veritable army marched into the courtyard, made up—of all things—of high school girls. The multicolored amphibians were nearly a thousand strong. They marched with the strictest of goosesteps, shoulders back, skirts swooshing, heels flying into the air. At the head of the column, the four largest frogs carried a litter, atop which sat...

"Slippy!?"

"Company... halt!" Slippy belted out.

The army of high-schoolers stopped and placed Slippy's chair on the ground. He hopped off and sidled over to Miyu, nearly tripping over Falco's limp body. He frowned down at the avian, but only for a second before he turned back to his army. Extending his arm, he formed a C with his hand, and the girls all returned the salute.

"Strength through discipline!" he yelled.

"STRENGTH THROUGH DISCIPLINE!" they responded.

"Strength through unity!"

"STRENGTH THROUGH UNITY!"

"Strength through action!"

"STRENGTH THROUGH ACTION!"

Miyu staggered backwards, dumbfounded. "S-S-Slippy, what have you done!?"

The amphibian turned back to the lynx. "You see, to get my powerite crystals, I had to woo, date, court, and otherwise romance these girls."

" _ALL_ of them!?"

Slippy scratched his upper lip. "I do admit, I got a bit carried away."

Miyu's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when she noticed what he was scratching. "Is that a toothbrush mustache?"

"I became a teacher at their high school, and a fairy told me I had to date them to get the powerite crystals. Well, come lunchtime, I dated a few of my students, but none of them knew anything about the crystals. I upped my game, became a dating machine, and still no crystals. But, by gym period, I had dated half the girls in my class. They were so infatuated with and dedicated to me that I was able to convert them into a fascist regime under my command. I sent them out to convert others and find the powerite crystals. To be honest, I rather enjoy the adoration. The power... the control. It kinda gets to you."

"There must be thousands of them!" Miyu exclaimed.

"Yes, isn't it wonderful? It's composed of students from my class, the other classes, grades, some from nearby high schools..." Slippy blushed, "and even some of the teachers, too."

"Marry me, Sensei!" someone from the crowd screamed.

"Oh my god, you've brainwashed the poor girls!" Miyu cried. "You've got them doing fascist salutes already!"

"Yes, it didn't take long, did it?" Slippy chuckled. "Just a few class periods, really. But the salute stands for our party's name: the Third Wave. We started out as class C3, you see, and the third wave is always the strongest of any movement. There's third wave ska, third wave coffee, third wave feminism... that's what the salute represents. Pretty nifty, isn't it?"

"That's utterly horrible!"

"Hey, at least _I_ got results!" Slippy countered. " I got more crystals than you two combined, it would seem."

Slippy clapped his hands, and several girls carried a large freezer tub out of the army column. They dumped it at Slippy's feet, spilling hundreds of powerite crystals over the courtyard.

"Really, you could have at least found _one_ between you two," the amphibian chided them. Next, he had the girls place three of the crystals into the slots on the gate, and the wooden doors swung open. "Company, march!" he ordered.

The horde of school girls goosestepped into Playawon Palace, while Slippy waited with Miyu and Falco. He nodded down at the prone falcon. "What's wrong with him?"

Miyu shrugged. "I don't know. He just kinda crawled here and babbled about something."

Slippy nudged Falco's side with his flight boots. "Hey, come one, Falco. We've got a princess to save. If you get up right now, I'll lend you some of my harem!"

Surprisingly, Falco didn't seem interested, but he rose to his feet all the same. When he was finally in a standing position, his shoulders slumped, and his face looked depressed as ever. It wasn't the Falco either of them were used to.

"What's the matter, Falco?" Miyu asked worriedly. "I can't believe you haven't made some lewd joke about my armor yet. You don't even understand that Slippy's dated more girls in this afternoon than you will in your entire lifetime. Are you okay? Do you need a can of Blue Steer?"

"Come on, we have to catch up to my army," Slippy said, grabbing onto Miyu's sleeve.

* * *

Inside the white marble palace, Slippy's class president greeted them. Milly brought the three members of Star Fox to the throne room, a fancy atrium decorated with ivory and gold trimmings. In the center of the octagonal room was a gold throne on a raised platform, and on the opposite wall another gate was embedded, but off to the side was a large bronze cage. Slippy, Miyu, and Falco approached it.

Inside the cage was a luxurious bed tent filled with plush pillows and blankets. Nestled at the center of the bed was none other than Princess Gamergirl; the curvaceous rabbit was inexplicably naked except for coils of black wires wrapped around her perfect frame. Rather than appear distressed, she seemed to be in a constant state of erotic ecstasy. When she laid her bedroom eyes on Falco, she lifted a controller from the mess on her bed and gave it a seductive lick.

 _"_ _Really not feeling up to it right now,"_ Falco grimaced. _"Sorry."_

"This is one time I wish the princess _was_ in another castle," Miyu agreed.

Ignoring his teammates, Slippy stepped forward and knocked on the bars. "Star Fox at your service, Princess. We'll have you out in no time."

"Ohhh, _thank_ you, Mr. Frog," Gamergirl said in the most sexual way possible. "You must be a _professional_ video game player. I play games, too. See, look at all of this merchandise!" And she directed their attention to the piles of video game character pillows on her bed. She climbed atop of a yellow rodent-looking one and straddled it with her legs. "Pikachu here is my absolute _favorite._ Mmmmm..."

"That's Renamon," Miyu pointed out.

Slippy politely bowed to the princess, trying to act professional in Fox's place (though he doubted Fox would have been able to keep it in his pants). "Yes, that is quite the collection, ma'am, but I'm afraid we have to get going—"

"Hurry back," the princess whispered breathily. "I can't wait to blow _your_ cartridge, honey."

"Okay, that's enough," Slippy said, blushing profusely. "Let's kill Wurzel, get the reward, and get the heck out of here."

"I second the motion," Miyu agreed. She grabbed Falco's shoulder and ferried him over to the gates behind the throne. When they arrived, Slippy gave orders to a detail of high-schoolers. The girls had already toppled one of the room's marble columns and were using it as a battering ram against the doors. After the usual three strikes, the gates burst open, and Slippy, Miyu, and Falco hurried through it.

They climbed some stairs and emerged onto the top of the palace: a round tower top walled in by a bastion. The sky dome was only a hundred feet or so above them, and it was no trouble picking out the individual pixels in the screen. The animated storm was jacked up into a real frenzy, the perfect backdrop to any final battle.

Lightning struck, revealing the silhouette of an eight-foot-tall figure. He spun around dramatically, white lab coat fluttering in the breeze.

"Surprise, it is I! Dr. Wurzel!"

Dr. Wurzel was a giant proboscis monkey with a long, bulbous nose that drooped down his face. An electric blue afro sat atop his head, and a large pearly set of teeth grinned evilly beneath a pink masquerade mask.

"To save Princess Gamergirl and Arcadia, you will have to defeat me!"

"We're not afraid of you, Dr. Wurzel!" Miyu said, brandishing her spear.

"Ha! Don't make me burst my colostomy bag!" Wurzel threw back his cement brick chin and laughed at the broiling clouds. " _You!?_ What a sorry band of heroes you make. A fascist dictator who dates underage girls, a sexually confused lynx who murders her own friends, a bird who shoots Trump supporters at the drop of a toupée, and a leader who won't even lead his team! You sorry band of misfits should never have tried making a team in the first place. Now, meet your doom!"

From thin air, Wurzel whipped out a silver trident and held it aloft. The three prongs attracted a stroke of lightning, which arced down from the sky dome to strike the weapon. Then, he lowered the trident and directed the flow at Miyu. The lynx pushed Falco and Slippy out of the way just as the bolt struck, but she caught it with her own spear. The two remained locked together, arcs of electricity streaming between them.

"Slippy, help!" Miyu cried over the crackling energy.

Slippy ducked left and circled around the doctor. With nothing but his bare fists, he dove in swinging, but Wurzel saw him coming. Still keeping the electrical current directed at Miyu, he kicked Slippy in the gut with his boot, sending the amphibian reeling backwards.

"Falco!" Miyu pleaded, "do something!"

Falco stepped forward, but he stopped several feet away from the doctor. He clenched his fists and looked up at him. Every pair of eyes on the tower top focused on him, and he opened his beak to speak.

"My adventures today have lead me to realize something. Nothing is more valuable, nothing more costly than the price of life. What will Dr. Wurzel's death accomplish? We can kill him just like any other enemy, but that would deny his own life the dignity of living for which it was made. Must another life die for others to live? I ask you, are violence and weapons the only way of living? Is killing the only way to advance? Why not have peace, and refuse to sacrifice even a single life for our lowly goals! Nay, I stand before you today, and I refuse to move one muscle to harm my enemy! Instead of hate, I give you... love!" And he flung his arms wide open towards Wurzel.

"Oh _please_ ," the doctor groaned. He stopped the flow of lightning to strike Falco in the head.

"Ow, motherfucker!" Falco cursed, then kicked Wurzel in the side.

A sack of fluids burst and spilled out of the doctor's lab coat. "AUGH! Anything but my colostomy bag!"

"Yay, Falco!" Miyu exclaimed, pumping her fist. "You're back to normal!"

"Oh I'm not finished with you, you overgrown house cat!" Wurzel spat.

The proboscis monkey charged the lynx with his trident, striking her in the chest and pinning her to the battlements. Slippy, Falco, and Miyu all caught their breaths; the blow was enough to pierce through most metals, and the lynx's fate was surely sealed.

Pinned against the bastion, Miyu closed her eyes tight in anticipation of the pain. But surprisingly, none came. She opened one eye and peeked down at her chest. To her astonishment, the tip of the trident had been stopped by the tiny left breast cup of her armor—even though it wasn't much bigger than the tip of the trident itself.

"Wat!?" Wurzel exclaimed. "Stopped by a bikini... oh god damn everything."

Miyu took the opportunity to turn the tide on the doctor. With one arm, she knocked Wurzel's trident aside. With the other, she pulled back her own spear and thrust it deep into the primate's chest.

* * *

"So, to cut a long story short, that's how we killed him."

All four members of the Star Fox team were assembled in Arcadia's hangar, just outside the city gates.

"You do believe us, don't you, Fox?" Miyu asked.

"Pssh, yeah, of course I believe you," Fox answered. "After all, I got the original mission brief... it's just... a bit hard to stomach all at once."

"I think," Falco began, hesitantly, "I think Arcadia was all one big giant game. Or maybe a bunch of separate little games—like you'd find at an arcade."

"Okay, Falco, I find it hard to believe there's such a thing as a video game melding with real life. Powerful spears, junk collectors, high schools, and colostomy bags I can except. But a real life video game? Come on, even I think you're pushing it."

"There was one thing that Wurzel said that bothered me," Slippy mused.

"He said it as he was dying," Miyu agreed. "It sounded like a creepypasta: "You'll never escape Arcadia, you'll never escape the game." What do you make of that, Fox?"

"Ha, are you kidding?" Fox chuckled. "What a load of bull. Does it _look_ like we're in some kind of video game now?"

At that moment, each of the four teammates' heads snapped up and stared into the air. They followed a set of glowing white numbers outlined in red as they floated through the hangar.

 _64_


	3. Ep 3: Pantímon Go

**Greetings! Elarix here writing you from the OBX. I took a break from writing the final chapters of _Hunting Party_ to shamelessly ride the Pokemon Go wave. Most of the following humor is really "immature," and if that's not your thing I understand. This episode is a one-off sorta fic, and it in no way represents the rest of _Misadventures_ to come.**

 **Disclaimer: Any similarities to persons living or deceased is purely intentional.**

 **...**

 **Wait**

 **Episode 3: Pant** **í** **mon Go**

* * *

In the dusty, orange plains of Papetoon, a protective aircraft shelter provided a strong bulwark against the gusts of wind and sand. The structure resembled a fat column resting on its side, halfway embedded in the ground. The inside was spacious enough to house a military cruiser of the largest grade, and it did—the _Great Fox_ , to be precise. At least it usually did. On this day, Star Fox's leader and founder, James McCloud, had taken his team and said ship to complete a mission. That left Fox and his upstart team to police the base.

Fox was currently in the personnel complex of their headquarters—a single-floor building attached to the side of the aircraft shelter. He was sitting in the rec room _supposedly_ managing supply shipments. It was the only job he was able to work while his leg recovered from their most recent escapades, and he was getting tired of solely working on a computer.

Fox's ears perked up when the buzzer rang, signaling someone was outside the front door. Excited to leave his current boring task, he leapt to his feet and called out, "Don't worry, I've got it!" to the rest of his teammates—who probably weren't listening anyway.

He navigated through the short hallways of the run-down building, which was just as dusty and dirty as the Papetoonian desert outside. Finding a base on Corneria was impossible for Star Fox, as James was an impulsive leader and blew all their money on the _Great Fox—_ not to mention four arwings for the team and a variety of military equipment. It felt like being new wine trapped in an old wineskin, but it was much easier to afford a base on Papetoon instead of Corneria.

Once Fox arrived at the reception area—which was slightly more cleanly than the rest of the complex—he studied a security camera monitor to check on their guests. There was no telling what type of dangerous characters would show up on their front porch: criminals looking to ransack their base, enemies they'd made during their missions, or a representative from Space Dynamics come to collect the _Great Fox's_ monthly.

Looking through the fuzzy security cam, Fox was able to make out a female koala surrounded by a troop of monkey suit-wearing guards. The vulpine discerned that they probably came for a contract rather than rob them, so he hopped to the door to let them in.

The koala entered with her security entourage, each of whom glanced suspiciously around the reception area.

"Welcome to Star Fox PMC (working title). What brings you here, ma'am?" Fox stepped behind the counter, pulling up a blank contract to get a head start.

"Thank you, son," the elderly koala said. She had a blond head of well-groomed hair, and wore a forest green pantsuit with a blue business jacket. "I'm Pillory Clitoris. You've probably heard of my campaign."

"Yes ma'am, and good luck to you!" Fox said, effortlessly putting on a smile. "Anything I can do to help your candidacy?"

"Well, I was hoping to find James McCloud here," Clitoris said as she lowered her voice. "Are you his son?"

"That's me, Fox McCloud. I'm afraid my dad is out right now. But I can ring up a contract and we'll fulfill it as soon as possible."

The pant-suited koala narrowed her eyes at Fox, sizing him up. "Actually, maybe you could help me better than he could. You see, I'm tied neck-and-neck with my rival, Sandy Beavers. In initial polls, he's attracted the majority of the younger generation—silly promises such as free education, free ice cream, free money... and I think free cannabis or something. I desperately need to woo his younger supporters if I'm going to nab the nomination for my party. In short, I need to be 'hip.' Can you help me do that, Fox?"

Fox scratched his head. "Uh... I'm not sure. We don't normally do operations like this. But if you had something in mind...?"

"I do, in fact," Clitoris said. She removed her phone, placing it on the counter in front of Fox. "You see, there's this new craze taking Corneria and her colonies by storm: Pantímon Go. I assume you've heard of it?"

"Yeah, it's that new Pantímon game that came out last week. Haven't played it myself, but I used to watch the Zoness cartoon as a kid."

"You see, Fox, I need to prove to this younger generation that I'm up with the times—that I understand them. That I'm a totally badass grandma, if you'll excuse the language! That's why I've come for you; I have several important speeches lined up, and I don't have time to collect those cute little monsters for my character. I'll give you till noon tomorrow to catch as many as possible, and pay by the creature. Can you handle that?"

"Yes ma'am!" Fox said. He would have preferred hunting down some dangerous outlaws in the Papetoon wastes, but it seemed like an easy enough job that he could even complete while sitting on the toilet.

"Ultimately," she continued, "I want to get Beavers to endorse me. Preferably before he dies."

Fox rotated the monitor to face the koala. "Can you fill out this contract for me, please?"

Clitoris completed the form and signed it, then made to leave with her body guards. Before she left, she stopped and presented a large round button to Fox.

"While you're at it, here's a little pin you can wear for me, son." And she pinned the blue button to Fox's flight suit.

"Glad to be of service to you, ma'am," Fox answered. After the group left the reception area, Fox sighed and closed the door. He took the opportunity of solitude to glance down and read the pin, which was difficult reading upside down. It prominently featured a blue H penetrated by some kind of arrow. Underneath it a line of text read, _I'm with Her..._

 _...pes._

Fox looked up, blinking.

* * *

The tod returned to the rec room, carrying Clitoris' pink jewel-encrusted phone. Cupping a hand over his muzzle, he shouted, "Hey everyone: we got a job to do!"

When no one responded from around the complex, Fox rang up his teammates on his wrist communicator. Still no one answered, even though all of them were required to wear the device. Quickly growing frustrated, Fox set the ringer to _EMERGENCY_ and called them once again. This time he got their attention.

Slippy was the first to walk in. "What's up, Fox?" he asked as he plopped down into a beanbag chair, which was actually the same consistency of his pudgy skin.

"Does the name "Pillory Clitoris" ring a bell?" Fox responded.

"Ew! She's competing for Cornerian Chancellor. Personally I support Donald Trump—"

"Slippy!" Fox interrupted him. "You can't just come out and _say "_ Donald Trump!" You have to _parody_ him!"

Slippy raised his hands to placate Fox's anger. "Hey, Trump's already a parody of himself! We don't need another half-assed satirical name!"

"Alright, sorry for making a big deal out of it. As I was saying, Mrs. Clitoris wants us to expand her Pantímon Go account."

"Whoa, she plays Pantímon Go?" Slippy exclaimed.

"She does now," Fox explained. "She wants to be a "badass grandma," as she put it. Why, do you play it?"

"Heck yeah I do!" Slippy exclaimed. "Why do you think I've been taking so many walks? You know Pantímon Go is the only game you can't play on the toilet!"

"Did someone say "Pantímon Go?"" Miyu asked cheerfully as she walked into the room.

"No way, you play too?" Slippy cried, looking up at Miyu.

"Doesn't everyone?" Miyu returned, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Slippy. "Hey, what level are you?"

"Seven. I don't get out as much as you do. You go on a lot of jogs, right?"

"Every day," Miyu smiled. "Hey, you could come along with me if you wanted to. You could work off some of that flab as well!" And she poked Slippy's stomach, to which he flinched.

Falco was the next junior Star Fox member to enter the rec room. Noticing Slippy and Miyu's phones opened to the app, he whipped out his own phone and sat on the couch beside them. "Wow, I should've known you all played! Have you found any clubs near here? I found a couple in town, but I need some help taking them out."

"First, what faction are you?" Miyu asked, raising a clawed fist. "Your answer could decide whether or not you live."

While the three teammates babbled on about Pantímon Go, Fox stood open-mouthed across from them. They tossed back numerous terms he didn't understand, and already he was beginning to feel left out of the group. He decided to interrupt before the situation escalated out of hand.

"Guys, hold up!" he shouted, waving his arms to catch their attention. "This is serious! You can worry about your games later. Right now, we need to help Pillory Clitoris level up her own Go account!"

Falco eyed Fox curiously. "I thought we did video game parodies _last_ episode?"

Fox slapped his hand over his face, while Slippy elbowed Miyu. "Hey, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We can go into town together! All four of us! You got embryos to hatch?"

"Course I do. Come on Fox, let's grab your car!"

"Wait a minute!" Fox shouted again. "I have something to admit. I don't know how to play Pantímon Go."

Falco waved him over. "Oh, that's fine. Open up Clitoris' account and we'll teach you shit."

Satisfied that he was getting somewhere, Fox stepped over to the trio and presented them with the fabulous pink phone. He gave them the passcode and opened the device, which immediately pulled up an email app.

"Oops, this must be her Pmail account," Fox mumbled, moving to close the application.

"Wait a minute!" Miyu stopped him, grabbing his paw. With her other hand, she pointed to an email chain at the top of the list. "What's that?"

Fox shrugged. "I dunno. It... it looks like some government emails."

"Oh-ho-ho, damn son," Slippy boomed, "She's got _official_ emails on a _private_ email server?"

"Well, I guess there's some sort of explanation for it," Fox weakly argued.

"Check and see if there's anything classified," Slippy urged. When Fox didn't make a move, Slippy grabbed the phone and searched for the term among her archived messages. "Holy shiznit! There's like... two thousand of these things! You know how easy it would be to hack into her email and read top secret messages? Heck, even most of your average apps have access to emails. This is just whole new levels of stupid."

"That's enough, Slippy," Miyu chided him. "We shouldn't be prying into a woman's personal stuff."

"Oh yeah?" Slippy taunted. He searched through the messages with a different term, scanned through an email chain, and highlighted some text for Miyu. "Then how about here where she labels _your_ favorite candidate an atheist shrew?"

Miyu swiped the phone from Slippy, reading the message herself.

"...That bitch!"

"How can she say that about him?!" Falco agreed, crossing his arms. "Beaver isn't an atheist! He's agnostic!"

"Yeah, and for a shrew he sure cares a lot about the lower classes. He's got my vote."

All of the Clitoris trash-talking continued to make Fox feel like the odd-man-out, on top of not playing Pantímon. "Listen, guys; it doesn't matter who you support. Fact is, we're getting paid to do this. Now let's get back to the mission, alright?" He hurriedly regained possession of the phone, navigating to a pair of panties on the home screen and opening the app up.

"Looks like she hasn't even made an account," Miyu observed. "Might as well make one for her."

They started by creating a koala avatar with a similar appearance to the chancellor candidate. Once they tried entering her name as _Pillory Clitoris,_ it rejected them.

"Huh," Falco grunted, scratching his head. "I wonder why it won't take the name."

"Someone else name their character that?" Miyu guessed.

"No, it says we aren't allowed to use vulgar names," Fox read.

"So all of a sudden it thinks Pillory Clitoris is somehow vulgar? That's ridiculous."

"Here, give it to me." Slippy took the phone, entering _xXPilloryXx_ as the character name. "All solved! Now you have to choose a starter Pantímon."

Slippy handed the device back to Fox, who realized the phone had entered an augmented reality mode. "Hey, this is pretty cool!" He pivoted the phone around the room, holding it at arm's length. Eventually, it came to rest on three different monsters.

"Your options are Ballsacksaur, Squirting, or Choudmander."

"Uhhh..." Fox pointed the phone between the three monsters, each of whom looked adorable and kinky at the same time. "Gosh, it's so hard to choose. Screw it, I'll go with Choudmander."

"That's the one I picked," Miyu said. "It doesn't make much of a difference, though."

"So, what am I supposed to do with him? What's the goal of Pantímon Go?"

"You just gotta get off your ass and start collecting Pantímon," Falco said. "You want to train them at strip clubs, which you can find at public landmarks. If you catch multiples of the same Pantímon, you can transvolve them into their next level. That's what Pantípairs are for; they put pairs of panties on them, which starts them on the road to becoming female. You also choose from one of three teams to join: Promiscuity, Paraphilia, or Abstinence."

"Decisions, decisions..." Fox muttered. "What would Clitoris choose?"

Slippy grinned, knowing exactly how to push Fox's buttons. "Well, her husband is pretty p—"

"Whoa Slip, not cool! How dare you go there."

Miyu hopped to her feet, giving Slippy a hand up as well. "Come on, let's get going! We can fill you in on the rest during the drive into town."

* * *

The four junior members of Star Fox piled into Fox's car—a deep blue Messara, which he helped purchase on his 18th birthday. Though at the time most modern vehicles made the jump to hover suspensors, the majority of sports cars remained wheeled.

Fox backed the car out of the garage and drove it towards town. It was difficult to free his mind from the constant thought of Papetoonian dust dirtying his car, so he tried reading some Pantímon articles instead. While driving on the straight, two-lane road out in the empty desert, he glanced down at his own phone to read some news pieces.

""Pantímon Go causes fatigue and sore legs,"" Fox read aloud.

"Gamers aren't used to walking around this much," Miyu explained. "They're unfamiliar with the term "exercise.""

Instead of reading any one article, Fox just brushed over the headlines. ""How Pantímon Go invades your privacy." "How to play Pantímon Go in your car without mowing people down"—Oh, fuck!" He swerved his Messara, barely avoiding a green figure standing on the road.

"That was a cactus, Fox," Slippy chided him from the passenger seat. "It wasn't even on the street."

"Yeah, well, you never can be too... "Pantímon Go player hit by driver _also_ playing Pantímon Go?!" Is this game even safe?"

"Of course it is!" Miyu assured him from the backseat. "You just have to use your head and stay out of trouble. You're not sitting in front of your computer anymore; you're in the wild and wacky outdoors, where anything can happen."

Fox kept reading the article titles, voice climbing in frightened pitch as he read each consecutive one.

""Muggers use beacons to lure Pantímon Go players," "Man robbed, stabbed while playing Pantímon Go," "Pantímon Go players fall off _cliff!""_

"Look, each time someone dies playing Pantímon Go, the average IQ if the Lylat rises." Falco crossed his arms and stared out the window at the passing terrain. "It's just natural selection doing its thing."

"Falco, people are _dying_ playing this game! It's making them do stupid shit!"

Falco flapped his wings in exasperation. "Come on, Fox! You can't seriously believe that a _video game_ is making people kill themselves; you have to blame the people themselves. Robots aren't taking over the world or whatever. These are the same headlines that made the news when wrist comms first came out."

Fox continued reading. ""Pantímon Go is losing daily users," "Why Pantímon Go won't last," "5 Reasons Pantímon Go will fail," "WHY YOU SHOULD DELETE PANTÍMON GO RIGHT NOW!""

"Whoa Fox, calm down!"

"Jesus!"

"Gandhi, Fox, remember Gandhi!"

Fox steadied his grip on the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road. "You're right, I'm sorry. Got a bit worked up there. Are you... are you sure this game is fine to play?"

"Been playing it for a week," Slippy spoke up. "I'm perfectly normal!"

"Your underwear's on backwards, Slip."

"What? How can you see me underwear?"

"'Cause it's on the outside of your pants."

"Guys, I don't know what I'm doing here," Fox broke in. "What exactly am I looking for? Where do I go?"

"Depends on what type of Pantímon you want," Slippy explained. "You can catch bikini type Pantímon at pools and beaches, cross-dressers at women's clothing stores, necrophiliacs at graveyards and morgues, and normal male types at Pantístops and strip clubs. We might run into a few of those."

"Huh, we're passing a graveyard right now," Fox pointed out. "Should I turn in here?"

As if in response, Clitoris' phone vibrated and emitted a ghostly farting sound in Fox's pocket.

"Dude, there's a Pantímon in that graveyard!" Falco exclaimed. "Sounds like a Quofing."

"Quofing?"

"Yeah! He transvolves into Queefing. You should totally try to catch him."

At Falco's behest, Fox turned into the graveyard and parked his Messara. Falco and Miyu met on one side of the car, while Fox and Slippy stepped onto the sidewalk.

"I've got an idea," Miyu posited. "Falco and I can take our embryos for a walk to hatch them. You and Slippy can catch that Quofing and take your car to find more."

"Sounds like a plan," Fox agreed. "Are you all up for an all-nighter catching Pantímons?"

"Pantí _mon_ ," Falco corrected. "Sure, we can run around town all night. You especially Fox; you need to catch as many as you can before Clitoris comes back tomorrow. We'll all take a nice preschool nap to celebrate."

"Slippy and I will meet you back at the base at noon," Fox said. "If you want to meet up sooner, just call. See ya."

"See ya!" Falco and Miyu jogged off down the street while the vulpine and frog entered the graveyard. Fox stared down at the bedazzled phone, following the GPS towards the miniature icon of Quofing. Slippy got bored in the meantime, so he whipped out his own phone and left his Pantímon app.

"Hey, Pillory Clitoris is giving a speech right now. Wanna watch?"

"Tune in, quick."

Slippy opened the livestream, which pictured the koala behind a podium surrounded by numerous political figures, families, and celebrities.

 _"...I may not know who made Pantímon Go,"_ she was in the middle of saying. _"My problem is figuring out how to get them to make Pantímon Go... to... the... polls!"_

While the crowd erupted in forced laughter, Slippy fell to his knees clutching his stomach.

"Slippy, what's wrong?!"

The amphibian was unable to answer. Instead, he projected a spray of vomit over the closest gravestone, hacking and coughing all the while. Even after the initial disgorge, he panted for a few seconds before inflating his cheeks and launching another volley onto the white marble headstone. Fox didn't think it was possible for Slippy to turn anymore green than he already was, but somehow the amphibian pulled it off.

"Can't... take... the cringe!" Slippy choked out. " _EEEEKKKGHGHKKEEGHAAHH!_ "

Fox frowned, nudging the frog with his boot. "It wasn't _that_ bad... besides, you ruined this dude's gravestone!"

"Oh it's fine," Slippy assured him, reading the engraving in the stone. "It just says, "RIP Linkin Park.""

"That's weird," Fox mused. He examined the nearby gravestones as well. "Here's one for Fall Out Boy... Asking Alexandria... Hollywood Undead, Bring Me the Horizon, Breaking Benjamin, Escape the Fate, Red, Skillet, TFK! Nine Lashes! 30 Seconds to Mars! Three Days Grace... My god, the list goes on!"

"Guess we stumbled into the graveyard of rock bands who suddenly went pop, huh?"

"Either that or just lost their touch. Geeze, there are a lot of them. Well come on, we've got a Queef to catch."

"Quee _fing._ And it's first gender is Quofing."

"What's the difference?"

"Well, the difference is where the fart escapes from. Didn't you see the new _Ghostbusters_?"

"Alright, we can talk about this later. At least I found closure on all my favorite bands. After that Quofing!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Falco and Miyu were walking down Main Street, each of them sharing an earbud connected to Miyu's phone. They were currently re-watching the classic Pantímon anime from their childhood. Halfway through the episode, the screen went red, with the black shadow of a Pantímon silhouetted by cartoonish blue rays of light.

 _"Who's that Pantímon?!"_ a cast of voices cheered.

"That's Menopause," Miyu guessed.

"No way!" Falco argued. "That's Psycock! You can tell by his giant—"

 _"Iiiiiiit's Psycock!"_

"Yes!" Falco pumped his fist. "I am on fire! I watched this show when I was a kid on Zoness. Except we didn't have the shitty dubbed version with these horrible Cornerian voice actors. That's where Pantímon was started, you know."

A notification popped up on Miyu's phone, and she paused the app to tap on it. It opened a news app which had just begun streaming a speech—a speech by their choice candidate, Sandy Beavers, who was campaigning on Papetoon against Clitoris. He was on old beaver with white wisps of hair and an accent Falco wanted to have when he got older.

"You know why _I'm_ on his side?" Falco asked Miyu. "Because his hair reminds me of Einstein."

"My only fear is that he'll drop dead at any second," Miyu said in a dour voice. "Just look at the poor old man. He's shaking, he's got bags under his eyes, his hair is falling out. It sounds like he desperately needs sleep. Please don't die, Beavers. Please don't die!"

Beavers looked up from his speech notes, addressing the crowd of college students and union workers before him. _"And, I promise to get you all... I promise to get you... e-each and every o-one of y-you..."_

Miyu gasped as the beaver collapsed on the stage, the microphone landing inches from his reddening face. "Noooo!" The senator coughed and choked for a few seconds before his eyes closed and his head fell limp.

"Well, at least he never had to endorse Clitoris," Falco said.

To both of their amazement, Sandy Beavers coughed himself back to life. He dragged himself a few inches towards the mike, gasping out, _"...Give everyone a free Pantímon Go Plus account!"_ Then his head lolled to one side and his tongue rolled out, X's over his eyes.

"Excuse me, but you guys look like you play Pantímon Go. Correct?"

Miyu and Falco slowed to a halt. They looked up from Miyu's phone to see a yellow Labrador wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He was holding a phone as well, only his was opened to the Pantímon Go app.

"Yeah, what's up?" Falco asked. He didn't say it aloud, but somehow the Labrador looked like more of a douche than he himself did. From the tight T-shirt and the tails of tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves, to his stylish close haircut, he practically oozed pure tool.

"My friend said he found a Nonaphalia on the other side of town! Just thought I'd help you out. I can drive you there in my car if you guys want to catch it."

"Dude, thanks!" Falco exclaimed. "Lead the way!"

Falco found it hard to believe that someone who looked so much like a douchebag could be so helpful, but he guessed he was bad at judging people's outward appearances. The yellow Lab had them follow him to his car, which was a black Messara like Fox's. But as they were getting into the back of his car, the retriever stepped back from the vehicle. He placed his paws on his jeans, shaking his head judgmentally at the two.

Confused, the pair of junior mercenaries got back out of the car. "Something wrong, bro?" Falco asked.

The Lab's tone was confrontational. "Do you guys even know who I am?"

"Should we?" Miyu asked.

"So you don't even know who I am, yet you feel safe enough to get into a car with a complete stranger?"

"Well yeah, you're just a fellow Pantímon—"

"Do you realize how easily I could have kidnapped you two? Don't you get it? There's no Nonaphalia—I made that up, and you completely fell for it. You guys should be more careful from now on. Pantímon Go is a very dangerous app, and you shouldn't play it without parental guidance. For all you parents watching, don't let your children use this app without supervision!"

"Wait, what the hell is this?" Miyu demanded. "You mean you were trying to kidnap us?!"

"Whoa there," the Lab said, holding up his paws. "My name's Joey Coleslaw—I'm a kidnapping awareness activist! I make EwTube videos about how easy it is for kids to get into trouble on social media and stuff!"

"So this is just some stupid stunt done for EwTube views, is it?!"

Miyu grabbed the Labrador by the neck of his shirt, practically lifting him off his feet. Falco hurriedly tapped her on the shoulder, trying to calm her down.

"Hold up, Miyu! Don't get violent!"

"Do you have cameras on us right now?" Miyu glared at Joey Coleslaw, his face mere inches from her own.

"Y-y-yes we do!"

"Good!"

"B-but we blur your faces out, so it's all fine!"

"Oh yeah? Well blur _this!_ "

The lynx kneed Coleslaw in the groin, then brought her tough skull slamming down on his after he keeled over.

Falco covered his beak with his wing, staring down at the motionless activist. "Ohoooo shit, girl! You dropped that bitch like a bar of soap in a washed-up celebrity star prison!"

"I'm coming for _you_ next!" Miyu shouted into the bushes, pointing a finger. As expected the plants rustled and out jumped one of Joey's friends. Instead of checking on his friend, he dropped their camera on the sidewalk and took off down the street.

"Can you believe this pervert?" Miyu growled, kicking the Labrador in the stomach. "Everyone wants to ruin a good thing! I swear, the entire world is a killjoy."

"I'm subscribing so I can see when this video comes out," Falco laughed. "I can't wait to see Coleslaw get it in the nuts over and _over_ again! And in slow motion, too!"

"Come on Falco, let's leave him." Before turning to stroll casually down the sidewalk, Miyu worked up a wad of saliva and spat on the helpless EwTuber for good measure.

As the pair disappeared down the street, Joey coughed out, _"It was just a prank, bro..."_

* * *

Still in pursuit of the illusive Quofing, Fox and Slippy navigated through the graveyard using their phones. Each was inextricably glued to his/her cellphone, zeroing in on the purple-colored necrophiliac. By the time they looked up at their surroundings it was much too late.

The pair of mercenaries had wandered into the middle of a funeral.

All around them were Lylatians dressed in somber black garb. White plastic chairs lined the green turf in rows, at the very head of which rested a dark oaken coffin flanked by displays of flowers. The funeral-goers eyed Fox and Slippy, but other than that they treated them as friends of the deceased, and didn't make a move to expel them from the gathering.

Fox grabbed Slippy's arm and bent down to hiss in his ear. "Slippy! We walked right into the middle of a funeral ceremony! What're we gonna do now?"

"According to my GPS, that Pantímon should be a few paces in front of us." They both looked down the rows of chairs at the coffin, gulping as they did so. After viewing the casket through their phones' augmented reality functions, they confirmed that Quofing was indeed inside.

"Slippy, I say we leave this instant! We can't play Pantímon Go during a funeral!"

"Fox, you have no idea how rare Quofing is! He only shows up at like 2% of graveyards!"

"Then what do you propose we do, huh? Just waltz right up there, whip out our phones, and throw Pantípairs at a dead person?!"

Slippy desperately glanced around the gathering of mourners, but he figured out a solution. "Fox, it's an open casket right now. All we have to do is get in line, pay the deceased our respect, and snatch that Pantímon off his carcass! Look at it this way; would _you_ want to be buried with a farting monster for the rest of your life?"

"It only exists on our phones! _It's not real!_ "

"I thought so. Now let's get in line and wait our turn!"

Reluctantly, Fox let Slippy drag him over to the line of mourners filing by the open casket. Nobody suspected a thing, but the pair garnered some judgmental looks for their inappropriate attire.

Once it was their turn to spend time with the deceased, Fox and Slippy huddled around the corpse and secretively pulled out their phones. In a series of hushed whispers, the mechanic-in-training instructed Fox on how to catch the Quofing, which Fox inwardly thought looked like a purple testicle with cancer. Through the phone's screen, the monster danced around the dead body, which was once an elderly female hare.

It proved difficult for Fox to snag it with a pair of panties, but when he finally did he could barely keep his celebration in check. Slippy quietly high-fived the vulpine, which still drew the attention of multiple funeral-goers. They turned to tiptoe away from the casket, but as soon as they did they heard a puff of air escape from behind them. They froze in place, clutching their cellphones.

"Slippy, was that Quofing again?"

"Nuh-uh," Slippy grunted. "Pantímon don't make noises once you've caught them."

"Well it wasn't me," Fox swore.

"Wasn't me."

The mercenaries slowly turned around to face the open coffin again, sweating as they stared wide-eyed at the motionless occupant.

"My god, the dead woman just quofed."

" _Queefed_ , Fox. She queefed."

* * *

After a long afternoon of walking, Miyu and Falco stopped off at the park to rest up a bit. Instead of an actual supper, they each bought a pair of hotdogs and sat down on a park bench to eat. Miyu held her phone up for them again, and the pair managed to catch the most crucial moment of Pillory Clitoris' second public appearance of that day.

The female koala stood behind another podium, this time flanked by none other than Sandy Beavers. The aging socialist was looking pretty good, considering he died just a few hours earlier. Clitoris had him haphazardly propped up against the speaker's podium, and she had to stop him from falling over every few minutes as she spoke.

Once she was done talking, the koala let Sandy Beavers take her place at the dais. As she tried to mimic the old beaver's voice she opened and closed his mouth with her paws.

 _"Hello fellow college students! I am Sandy Beavers! I know I promised you all free shit, but Pillory has shown me the error of my ways. We were all smoking pot when we thought we could get free tuition and premium Pantímon Go accounts. It's time for you all to grow up and realize nothing is free. Not even free handouts, because the government still taxes those. As of this moment, I hereby suspend my run for chancellor, and endorse Pillory Clitoris!_ Yaaaay! _"_

 _"Booo!"_ the live audience erupted, throwing bottles, textbooks, and tin foil pipes at the stage.

"Well, that went over about as well as I expected it to," Falco commented.

"Don't lose hope, Falco," Miyu consoled him. "We can still support Sandy's dead body! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to use the little girl's room. Don't wander far."

"I'll be waiting," Falco answered. "Probably check on my embryos' progress. Just make it quick, and keep your eyes open for a Coprocobra in there."

"Will do."

After Miyu hopped off towards a row of portable restrooms, Falco opened his Pantímon Go app. While checking the development progress of his embryos, a notification came up signaling a Pantímon was nearby.

"Ohhhh shitnuggets!" Falco cried as he jumped up and spilled the tail end of his hot dog onto the ground. "It's an Arsenine! I gotta catch that little fella. Never gotten one of these before..." Falco glanced up from his screen, looking in the direction of the porta-potties. "I bet I could catch it before Miyu finishes... yeah, I'll only be gone a minute!"

Still nervously glancing towards the green plastic stalls, Falco set out after the Arsenine, sprinting as well as he could with his phone in one hand.

Meanwhile Miyu sat in a stuffy restroom cell, her phone out as well. She was flicking pairs of panties at a swaying Coprocobra on her screen.

"Say, whaddya know. You _can_ play this game on the toilet!"

* * *

"Nice work, Fox!" Slippy congratulated his leader. Fox had just caught his fifth Choudmander in the graveyard that day, which meant it was time to combine them into their next gender form.

 _"Congratulations!"_ a peppy robotic voice droned from the app. _"Your Choudmander transvolved into... Cameltoemeleon!_ "

Fox dropped his phone in the grass, then raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, you know what? I quit. I just quit! I'm done with this game. I don't even know how this was acceptable in the 90's, so I guess all of these jokes just flew over my naïve child head. What is this even rated? I wasn't going to comment on all the _ridiculous, immature, stupid stupid_ _ **stupid**_ names they gave the creatures, because you three just seemed to go along with it. You acted like it was normal! Heck, even Clitoris acted like it was normal. But "Cameltoemeleon" is the last straw!"

Fox gestured down at the monster on his phone screen, at a loss. "What even _is_ that? I feel like if this was in Zoness they'd blur it out with pixels! And that goes for all the rest of the Pantímons, too! Each one of them looks like it was doodled by an immature high school student on the inside flap of his biology textbook!"

"Easy there, Fox!" Slippy coaxed him, resting his hands on the vulpine's shoulders. "It's all for the reward. It's aaaaall for that big fat paycheck you'll receive from Clitoris tomorrow!"

Fox leaned against Slippy, panting from rage. "You're right, Slip. I-I'm sorry for that outburst." He clasped his hands and took a series of deep breaths, repeating, "Remember the money, remember the money, remember the money..."

"There you go," Slippy encouraged him. "Now, there's a Pantímon strip club in the mausoleum over there. If we visit it we can train your Pantímon to perform better, get them to higher levels, and even face off against other players. What do you say?"

At the mention of a Pantímon strip club in the middle of a mausoleum, Fox felt the volcano of angst boil up in him once again, but he bit his lip and forced it back down.

"Alright, we visit the... strip club," he grimaced. "Lead the way."

Together they walked the remaining distance to the mausoleum that sat on the edge of the cemetery. It was a large stone building made to house a dozen or so family members in a single, above-ground structure. The mausoleum was shaped like a classical temple, with a triangular pediment and columns that stood in rows around every side. At the bottom of a small set of stairs leading up to the structure was a stone plaque engraved with a series of words. As the two Lylatians passed, Fox paused in front of the plaque to read them aloud.

""Here lie the worldly bodies of the family—"" But Slippy grabbed his arm, cutting him off.

"Fox..." the amphibian intoned with much difficulty. "It's best if you didn't know."

Fox nodded, trying not to inadvertently read the rest of the plaque. "Yeah, you're right Slip. I shouldn't. Let's... let's get on with it, then."

The pair climbed the few short steps up to the raised dais surrounding the mausoleum, then slipped inside the heavy front doors. The family crypt was warmly lit by the orange beams of the sunset, which oozed in through multicolored stained glass windows. The walls and floor were made with finely polished blocks of granite, easily reflecting the bright speckles of light from the windows. The building itself was shaped like a Greek cross, with four separate wings extending in perpendicular directions. The walls of each passage were lined with roll-out coffins that operated in a similar manner to filing cabinets. Except instead of files they were dead people O.O At the ends of each hall stood large stained glass windows depicted various religious scenes. At the center of the mausoleum was a short decorative fountain surrounded by wilting flowers.

 _"This_ is a strip club?" Fox asked in disbelief.

"I'm one hundred percent certain," Slippy answered. "As we've told you, necrophiliac Pantímon live around here. Now forget about all the dead people and train your Pantímon."

"You're right. I can't let the past control my future, nor the dead control the living. Let's educate my Pantímon in the ways of perversion for the sake of Pillory Clitoris."

Fox began navigating through a series of menus in the app, but Slippy poked him in the side and pointed across the fountain. "Wait, we're not alone!"

"I know, there are like fifty or so dead people."

"No, there's someone on the other side of the crypt. Look!"

Fox followed Slippy's green digit towards the stained glass window across from them. Framed against the saturated window stood a black silhouette that look like it had come straight from the clearance section of Party City after Halloween was over. The definitely feminine figure strolled down the hallway and paused just on the other side of the fountain, now thoroughly illuminated by an overhead chandelier of candles.

At the sight of the girl, Fox felt his pulse jump into high gear. She was an astonishingly attractive onyx-furred panther, petite and unthreatening in size but with an icy scowl that could kill all on its own. She had short black hair with violet highlights that swept down the sides of her face, pointing forwards at anyone fortunate/unfortunate enough to face her. The amethyst prongs of hair looked like they could trap anyone who attempted to steal a kiss from her in an iron maiden.

Her wardrobe was an unconventional mix of gothic, costume, and contemporary fashion design. The panther wore a black velvet dress with a lace-up front and a purple blouse underneath. The top of her dress left her thin shoulders bare, while the long sleeves ended in decorative, draped frills around her gloved paws. The frills on her sleeves matched those lining her skirt hem, which fanned out around her thighs like a lampshade. Fox shamelessly let the outfit entice his eyes further downwards, following the skirt to her purple stockings with garter straps, and finally a pair of platform boots that must've gone out of style before either of them were even born.

But whereas most gothic outfits would have included silver accessories, she opted for gold instead; from her gold lip-piercing to a polished, upside-down cross necklace, the jewelry and chains matched her steely amber eyes. Completing the outlandish outfit was a black parasol made to resemble a spider web. The girl tapped her tall-soled boot, waiting for a response from either teammate.

While Fox had drooled all over his flight suit, Slippy had easily maintained his composure. The amphibian grabbed Fox's arm, dragging him down so he could hiss in his ear. "Fox, what's with this chick? Halloween is three months from now. Is she getting a head-start on trick-or-treat?"

Fox snapped back to reality, hurriedly sucking in the strand of drool dangling from his mouth. "She's a goth, Slippy," he whispered back.

"A goth?"

"Yeah, a goth girl. And I have a particular _thing_ for goth girls, if you know what I mean, Slip."

Slippy eyed the extremely loud outfit over the small jets of fountain water. "That costume doesn't look very gothic to me."

"Goth girls can wear whatever the heck they want, Slip!" Fox angrily hissed, "As long as it's dark and edgy!"

"A trash bag is dark and edgy," Slippy shot back. "That suit has too much bling to be gothic."

"Have you no heart, Slippy?" Fox turned to face the wannabe mechanic directly, fixing him with judgmental eyes. "She's trapped inside a body she doesn't understand, in a world she never asked to be born into. She was probably abused by mean parents who told her it was just a phase, bullied and excluded at school by peers who didn't understand her, and laughed at by online trolls who make fun of her Twilight fanfics. Her only relief—her only escape from this hell of a life are her Evanescence albums, the pillow of Edward Cullen she cries herself to sleep on every night, and the razor blades she slits her wrists with in the bathroom."

"S-sorry, Fox, I-I-I didn't mean to be insensitive—"

"And it totally turns me on!"

Slippy paused with his mouth open, about to apologize further when Fox's last admission hit him in the face. "Whoa whoa whoa, so _I'm_ the one without a heart? How can _you_ get aroused by self harm?!"

"Never question another man's sexual preferences, Slip."

"You're only 18!"

"And with any luck, she is too," Fox concluded. "Now, are you going to help me get into those spooky purple garter straps or aren't you?"

Slippy grimaced and looked disdainfully across the trickling fountain, but eventually gave in to Fox's pressure. "Geez, I let you talk me into some doozies. Like skipping college to become a mechanic for a PMC outfit, for example. You want to impress her with your Pantímon skills, correct? Well here's your chance. You've joined opposing teams. You're on Promiscuity, and judging by her outfit, I'd say she's on Paraphilia. You know, I bet she's into Necrophiliac types, which is probably why she's camping out at this particular strip club."

Fox huddled closer to Slippy so their battle plans would go unheard. "Rats! It would've been easier if we were on the same team. Then we could work together, right? Instead I'll have to whoop that sweet Halloween candy ass in a dual! I can do that, right?"

Slippy nodded, then referred to his phone. "It says here she's the strip club's sugar daddy, meaning you'll have to defeat her to seize the club for your faction. She's several levels higher than you, so be careful. I'll stand by your side and guide you."

Fox visibly cringed at the thought of relying so much on Slippy. "Er, Slippy, I rather you not spoil my chances with this little pair of milk duds. Why don't you wait outside and give me hints through my earpiece?"

Slippy gave Fox a disgusted look of betrayal. "Wow Fox, that's surprisingly low for you. I bet you must feel pretty small right now. After all the trouble I went to, helping you build up Clitoris' account and all, _this_ is how you repay me?" He shook his head. "Despicable. Just like Falco and Miyu. And I thought you were different."

Fox wrinkled his nose and stared above the amphibian's frame. "Yeah yeah, I'm a jerk. Now scram out of sight and give me those hints. Purple hoes before bros."

"I hate you," Slippy growled, exiting the mausoleum and checking his ear piece.

With Fox's embarrassing friend gone, the vulpine felt an awkward weight lift from his shoulders. He stood up, cracked his knuckles, then spun around to face his adversary. She seemed to realize that he wouldn't keep her waiting any longer.

"Well now, let's get down to business!" Fox exclaimed. "I've come to capture this Pantímon strip club for my faction, and you're in my way. I'm prepared to take it over your dead body, only you'd get off on something like that. And I'll totally do that if you wanted me to! Feel free to hand the strip joint over now, or completely throw the battle in my favor. I promise it'll be less painful that way."

The girl seemed taken aback by Fox's forwardness; she didn't pick up on the fact that he was faking it. Baring her eye-catching wardrobe, the panther seemed rather introverted. But she worked up the courage to respond, and not in the way Fox was expecting. The feline raised a small mechanical box to her neck, placing it against her vocal chords and holding a button down. The piece of equipment seemed to vibrate, and the sound escaping her lips sounded more robot-like than natural—incapable of pitch modulation, emphasis, or inflection.

 _"I'm prepared to fight. I don't want to lose this mausoleum to anyone."_

Not wanting to make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already did, Fox ignored the electrolarynx. He remembered one of the veterans James brought him to visit many many years ago using one as well. It had scared the crap out of him as a small child then, but he didn't want to make the cat feel embarrassed about it. Instead he just continued the conversation.

"Why are you so adamant about not losing this club? Is this the final resting home of your ancestors, and you don't want to dishonor them?"

The jungle cat's eyes narrowed, and she glared at Fox. _"No, screw my family. I hate them all! I worked too hard for this cemetery strip club, and I'm not about to give it up."_ She had to jam the device against her throat to convey emphasis.

Fox crossed his arms, staring smugly out of the corner of his eye at his opponent. "And what is your name, thou witch?"

She appeared to falter before responding, _"Black Mamba,"_ which Fox immediately judged to be an alias.

"My name's Fox," he returned. "Well, Mamba... prepare to lose one graveyard strip club! Cameltoemeleon! I. Choose. You!"

With a dramatic flourish, Fox tapped several buttons on the pink phone before flinging it across the room like he would an actual Pantípair. The device bounced off the far rim of the fountain before clattering to a stop near Mamba's platform boots. From the other side of the mausoleum, the phone emitted a disappointing roar and a bit-crushed fire sound effect, barely audible over the water fountain.

Black Mamba placed the electrolarynx to her throat. _"Did you actually just throw that at me."_

"Yes, I totally did!" Fox confidently shouted. "It's what they do in the cartoon! But now it's _your_ turn to choose, evil succubus!"

While Fox skirted the ornamental fountain to retrieve his phone, Mamba made her selection as well. Though when Fox stopped at her feet to pick up Clitoris' phone, she timidly took several steps away from him. This prevented Fox from staring up her skirt, which turned out to be exactly what he had planned by throwing said phone.

 _"Curses,"_ he whispered, clenching his fist.

After Mamba made her selection, a ghostly blue and purple octopus appeared on Fox's phone, challenging his Pantímon.

 _"You are no match for a level 17 Hentaicle, Fox."_

"We'll see about that," Fox smirked. Thrusting his hand forward like he remembered from the show, he shouted, "Cameltoemeleon, use..."

…

…

…

…

 **A/N: Look, for the sake of my audience and this story's rating, I will not be depicting a fight between one "Cameltoemeleon" and one "Hentaicle." You can easily find millions of similar videos in a new tab. Scene Change!**

* * *

Once Falco reached the location of the illusive Arsenine, it disappeared from the GPS map.

"Dangit!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. The Arsenine had lead him into a back alley between a cheap Zonessian restaurant that served butchered dishes from said planet and a Parcheesi joint. Being in the afternoon, the alley received little light, and was only lit by a flickering incandescent bulb. Wet, crumpled newspapers, banana peels, and other trash littered the alleyway, giving it an unappealing look. Overhead, the Papetoonian breeze whistled between the gap in the two buildings, creating a natural haunting soundtrack. All of this combined to give Falco the willies.

Disappointed that he had just missed the Pantímon, and eager to escape the dismal alley, Falco turned to leave, when a notification buzzed on his phone. He glanced down at it, and was elated to see that Arsenine had returned.

Falco used the AR function on his phone to scour the alley, eventually realizing the Arsenine was hiding in the dumpster. He lifted the lid to the dumpster and raised his phone, but once again the Arsenine mysteriously vanished. In its place... was a collection of black military gear. Falco lowered his phone, gawking at the handguns, bullet belts, assault weapons, and tactical gear that rested in an open trash bag.

Falco moved to switch to his call function, intending to alert the Papetoon police, but Arsenine had once again materialized on his phone.

 _If you want to catch me_ , a dialogue box below the creature read, _You'll have to take this gear._

Falco narrowed his eyes, recoiling from the phone. "Pshh, no! Why the heck would I do that? I mean, it's just an Arsenine. I don't want to risk getting caught with all these weapons just for some, for some..." His eyes wandered to the Pantímon's face, which was predictably shaped like a butt. He stared into the large, manipulative eyes on either cheek, feeling as if he could lose himself in them. Overall, the sensation felt like being hypnotized.

"Then again, Arsenine _is_ a rare Pantímon," Falco heard himself mumble. "It's not like you have the opportunity to catch one every day. Who knows when my next chance will be. After all, if I get caught, I can just say Pantímon Go made me do it. Yeah, that's what I'll say!"

Falco reached into the dumpster, closing the trash bag around the weapons and slinging the pack over his shoulder. "Alright, Arsenine. Where to next?"

 _Go to the alley between warehouses 19 and 20,_ the dialogue box read. _You will receive your next instructions there._

"Hot zippity!" Falco exclaimed. The app charted a path through a series of back allies that would keep him out of sight, ending between the specified warehouses. Falco cheerfully lugged his burden of tactical gear along said path, until he arrived at the warehouse district.

The location was perfectly removed from the public eye, with warehouses 19 and 20 situated on the very outskirts of town. Here the concrete roads ended before a vast sea of sand and clay hills. And in the last light of the setting sun, Falco could make out the black silhouette of an armored vehicle stationed near the alley's exit.

When he entered the backstreet, several ranks of Papetoonians met him, standing at attention as if they were military personal. Though each was dressed and armed with the same gear as Falco carried on his back, underneath the bullet-proof vests they wore regular civilian clothes, indicating they had just come off the street. Additionally, each had a phone opened to the figure of Arsenine, and each animal had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he wasn't completely present.

Falco looked down at his phone for instructions.

 _Put on your gear, Falco,_ Arsenine ordered him.

The avian did as he was told, strapping on the combat armor and ammo belts over his flight suit, then holstering his pistols and slinging the assault rifle over his shoulder.

 _I place these sheep under your control, Falco. Now climb inside the vehicle. In there you will find the remainder of your instructions... and your target._

 _It's for the Pantímon,_ Falco told himself, climbing into the armored truck. _It's for the Pantímon! Arsenine made me do it. Pantímon Go made me do it!_

Inside the vehicle, he found an open manila folder with several sheets of paper and prints of blurry images. Among the photos were a black limo, a group of bodyguards... and one female koala by the name of Pillory Clitoris.

Over the candidate's head, a red _X_ was viciously scribbled.

* * *

"Cameltoemeleon, NOOOOOO!"

As Fox's Pantímon fainted and collapsed onto the virtual floor, Fox himself fell to his knees weeping. "We had so much to win, my Pantímon... my partner... no, my friend! We were so close to seizing this family tomb, yet so far!" He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, bending over his phone. "But I promise you, by noon tomorrow I will win a strip club for your brethren to train at! Pole-dancing and everything, all in your memory!"

Black Mamba was taken aback by Fox's show of emotion. Throughout the battle, she had taken Fox's charismatic antics in stride, distinctly acting without emotion whereas her opponent exuberantly cheered and cried whenever something happened. Though he never made fun of her electrolarynx or outfit, his forced persona alone made her uncomfortable.

 _"It's just a virtual Pantímon,"_ Mamba tried to coax him.

"Nonsense!" Fox shouted, raising a fist. "He became a great pal in the short space I knew him! ...or her... But-but I failed her as a trainer! And now she's dead—gone forever!"

Eventually, the panther worked up the courage to approach Fox. She gently kicked him in the side with a platform boot, then pointed with her closed parasol at his phone. _"You know Pantímon don't die, right? You've at least seen the show, even if you are a noob."_

Fox's jaw slowly opened in comprehension. "You're right! They're never killed in the show, they just get... knocked unconscious? KO'd? They faint?"

 _"They climax, and need to recharge,"_ Mamba explained. _"Just send your Cameltoemeleon to the infirmary and they'll give her the appropriate steroids."_

In a sudden movement, Fox grabbed her boots and bowed low to the floor. "Thank you, Black Mamba! I never thought a demoness like yourself could be as charitable as an angel!"

Mamba recoiled, kicking Fox off her boots. _"Yuck, weirdo! Don't get too close. But... come back again when you're really ready to fight me. I warn you; you still won't be able to wrest this strip club from me."_

"We shall see about that."

The pantheress showed him to the door, allowing him to step back out into the warm night. But before she could close him out, Fox spun around and asked, "So before I go, by any chance could I get your number?"

 _ **SLAM**_

The door swung shut in his face, sealing his fate. Fox frowned and hung his head, resignedly walking down the stone steps. At the base he found Slippy sitting back against the dedication plaque, watching a video on his phone. He stepped over to the frog, glaring down at him and catching a few seconds of the video. The one and only Trump was giving another speech, and Slippy was engrossed by his choice candidate.

 _"...When elected, I am going to build a wall. And it's going to be a great wall. It's going to a beautiful wall—the best and tallest you've ever seen. I tell you, everyone's sick of this problem, and the law abiding citizens here are the ones paying for the crimes of others. I've said it once, and I'll say it again. I am going to Build. A. Wall. To keep out all these rampant Pantímon Go players—"_

"SLIPPY!" Fox shouted down at his accomplice.

The wrathful outburst startled Slippy, who nearly dropped his phone before fumbling with and eventually catching it. He looked up at Fox, confused. "Oh, hi Fox. How'd your match go?"

Fox smiled evilly at Slippy. He bent over until he was mere inches from the frog's face, dropping the chivalrous, flamboyant act he kept up in front of Mamba. "I _lost._ "

Slippy's cheeks turned red, resulting in a disgusting off-brown color only a Coprocobra would find attractive. "Oh, that's a shame, Fox. I was hoping you could steal that club from her."

"And do you know _why_ I lost, Slip?"

"Maaaybe because you weren't a high enough level?"

"Because you stopped giving me instructions, that's why!"

Slippy grimaced, sliding back into the plaque and the ground to get as far away from Fox as possible. "Ah, well, everyone loses once in a while. Ass Ketchup couldn't win a match to save his life, and somehow still ends up with every badge in existence. Winning isn't everything, Fox. I thought the TV show taught you that."

"Oh no, winning isn't everything. Having a go at that tight pair of skull-covered panties _is,_ but I lost that chance because my lifeline was watching a speech by the goddamn _Antichrist!_ Do you know Trump _killed_ one of us furries to get that mop of hair?"

It was Slippy's turn to get up in Fox's face. "Hey, he's not bald! But even so, I would happily sacrifice myself to rest atop that glorious head!"

Fox straightened back up, folding his arms. "You? The only hair _you_ have is on your—... never mind, I wouldn't evoke that image on my worst of enemies. Alright Slip, I think we're even now. I kicked you out of that strip club for a chick, and you watched a Trump speech instead of helping me. Satisfied?"

"You still insulted my candidate..." Slippy pouted.

"I reserve the right to insult your candidate, regardless. Now the night is young, Slip, and we'll be out here till noon tomorrow catching as many Pantímons as possible. Are you gonna help me this time? Remember, it's for the good of Star Fox."

Slippy looked down, scratching his chin. "I dunno... we're technically helping Pillory Clitoris through this."

"Slip old pal, the first rule of being a mercenary is that you have no ties to _anyone_. As long as we're offered money, we serve, regardless of who the employer is. And who knows? Next week Trump may hire us to investigate some paranormal activity in his towers, and we all get gender-swapped in an awful parody of the new Ghostbusters movie."

"Really? 'Cause I would be _so_ up for that."

"No, don't even think about quoting me on that."

* * *

Before noon the next day, Fox and Slippy had trudged home to Star Fox HQ. All through the night and early morning, they scoured the town for Pantímon until they drained it dry. Fox even managed to beat another player in a match, who for some reason was also up at the same ungodly hours as they were. But after witnessing a sunset and sunrise in the wrong order, and wearing their feet down all throughout town, they were completely exhausted.

Once they returned to the base, they were surprised to find Miyu present without Falco. Upon asking the lynx where he was, Miyu simply shrugged, explaining he had ditched her after she went to use the restroom. Miyu had turned in late the previous night, but as far as she could tell the avian never returned. Eventually they wrote it off as Falco being Falco—that is to say the blue party animal—and assumed he was lying wasted in a 24/7 bar somewhere, probably having blown all his money on hookers.

As the clock approached noon, they received a call from one of Clitoris' aides that they were en route to Star Fox's base. At this time James returned with the senior members of Star Fox from their own mission. To check up on his son's excursions, James met Fox in the reception area.

"Well now, Fox, I'm glad to see you didn't burn the place down while we were gone."

Fox didn't even look up from the reception area's computer, instead pulling up Clitoris' mission file. "Yes sir. But we did receive and fulfill a mission all on our own."

"Oh, really? What was it?" James propped his elbow up on the reception desk, sizing up the blank walls for some photo shoots he was planning. "And don't tell me you played video games for a contract again."

Fox opened his mouth to speak, but immediately closed it. Instead he focused on the mission file.

Understanding Fox's lack of a response, James lowered his sunglasses and rubbed his face. "Honestly Fox, you can hardly call that last one a mission at all, especially since they paid you in virtual money you couldn't actually _use_ outside Arcadia. And I let you borrow the _Great Fox_ to fly to some video game paradise out in space just for that? I swear if you don't get paid for this job—"

"Dad, dad chill!" Fox interjected. "We're getting paid! We took a job from Pillory Clitoris!"

"You accepted a contract from Pillory _Clitoris?!_ " James exclaimed, studying Fox with wide emerald eyes. "Wow son, you really are growing up! I'm amazed you could put aside your political opinions and actually serve a candidate you didn't like. That right there: that _really_ shows appropriate mercenary tact."

"No dad, I actually support Clitoris. _I'm with herpes!_ "

"Oh..." James placed his sunglasses on so he didn't have to face Fox directly. "Well, son... Papetoon is a representative democracy, and Corneria is a free coalition. As a citizen, you're completely entitled to your decision, no matter what you choose or for what reasons. If that's your opinion, that's completely acceptable in the Lylat. You be you, Fox. Just know that..." He placed a hand on Fox's paw, leaning in close. "...I'll be praying for you and your decision."

Fox shook his father's paw off. "Screw you too, dad. Now would you please leave? We fulfilled Clitoris' contract, and I don't want you ballsing this up for us at the last second."

"Really now? What was the contract? What'd you have to do?"

Fox shamefully buried his face in the monitor, avoiding his father's gaze. "We caught a bunch of Pantímon for her."

"Cool beans!" James cried. "I would've loved that job! You know Peppy, Pigma, and I caught some rare ones on Katina! We even took over a strip club, but I don't think we'll be able to hold it since we're based on Papetoon."

"Et tu, father?" Fox moaned.

The sound of a rumbling motor reached the vulpines' ears.

"Oh, that must be the crusty hag now," James commented. "Well, I better be going. Give that granny a slap on the ass for your father. And if a finger or two slips in there son, you let it happen!"

"Dad!"

"Really son, I'm serious. If I was 20 years younger, and she was someone else, I'd totally hit that—"

"Wait, _shhhh!_ " Fox hushed his father. "That doesn't sound right. Clitoris came in on a hover limo. That sounds like something much bigger—and with wheels, too."

"You're right..." James mused, perking up an ear. What followed next was a series of gunshots as the mystery vehicle swerved to a stop, causing both Fox and James to duck low. James crawled over to Fox beneath the desk, shouting over the gunfire.

"I thought you said your mission was to catch _Pantímon!_ "

"It was, dad!" Fox whimpered.

"Then why the blazes do we have a shootout on our hands!"

"I-I don't know!"

James thought for a moment before replying, "They must've figured out Clitoris was coming here somehow, and decided now would be the best time to ambush her."

"You mean—!"

"Precisely Fox!" James fixed his dark shades on his son. "Someone's trying to assassinate Clitoris, and they're using Pantímon Go to do it! Do you know how many privacy issues that app has? _Do_ you?!" He raised his wrist comm to his muzzle, angrily shouting orders into the communicator. "Pigma, Peppy, where the devil are you?! There's a gunfight outside and you're relaxing right in the middle of it! I know we just got back from Katina, but get your asses to the reception area, on the double!"

 _"On my way, James!"_ Peppy's response came.

 _"Sure thing, boss!"_ Pigma's followed shortly afterwards.

One after the other, Peppy and Pigma ran into the reception area, ducking down low when James urgently gestured for them to. Miyu and Slippy joined the gathering as well, also lying low to the floor. While Slippy cowered behind the desk, Miyu crawled nearer to James as he gave out orders.

"Listen up," James shouted. "Pillory Clitoris and her entourage are pinned down out there by some unknown assailants. The security feed shows an armored vehicle between her base and our limo. Whoever's attacking her, they sure chose the wrong PMC to mess with! Pigma, Peppy, we'll attack from behind the vehicle and force them away, allowing Clitoris to take shelter in our base. Junior squad, I want you all to stay here. Just keep the old witch safe and get her to pay up on that contract. I don't want any of you to get hit by a stray—Miyu!"

Apparently Miyu wasn't having any of that. Not content with cowering inside their base, she ran on all fours towards the front door and slipped outside. Soon the gunfire was broken with the sound of her laser-based blaster.

"Dammit! That girl's got spunk," James cursed. "Alright Peppy, Pigma, you're with me. Let's go!"

The hare and stocky pig—stocky being a conservative description—tailed James to the door, running out with weapons blazing. Fox hunkered down behind the door, waiting to receive Clitoris when she came and watching the firefight with excitement. At last, James and his team forced the armored vehicle and the black-clad assailants away from Clitoris' limo, allowing her to park in front of the reception area. The elderly koala jumped inside, surrounded by a wall of body guards.

"Mrs. Clitoris!" Fox greeted her. "We have a safe room in back. If you would kindly follow me—"

"Sorry Mr. McCloud, I've got a speech in front of several big donors I have to attend in ten minutes. I will however take my phone." And she grabbed the jewel-studded device from Fox's paws.

"W-w-wait a minute!" Fox exclaimed as the koala made to enter her limo again. "We fulfilled your contract! You still have to pay us!"

"Oh, about that," Clitoris sighed. "Universal media coverage of Pantímon Go has turned negative, so my PR consultant has suggested I distance myself from it. The game is just connected to too many crimes, and all video games regardless of genre foster toxic male masculinity and violence, resulting in rampant serial killers. I have one study from 25 years ago with unclear results to prove it. Oh, and Macrohard just became my second biggest donor. I'm afraid I won't be able to use those Pantímons after all. Toodle-loo!"

The candidate turned to exit the building just as a stray bullet struck the concrete wall next to her hand. "Eep!" she cried, emitting a rush of air from her nether regions. And as a foul stench filled the air, she left the compound and drove off in her limo.

Fox and Slippy stood in the open door frame, watching the hover-car tear across the sand.

"Did she just... did she just queef?" Fox asked, jaw dropping.

"No Fox," Slippy answered in a serious tone. "And that's what scares me. That, my dear friend, was in fact a _quof."_


	4. Ep 4: Black Mamba Saves Halloween

**Star Fox Misadventures**

 **Episode 4: Black Mamba Saves Halloween**

 **(or**

 **Parody at the Humor House)**

* * *

The door to Star Fox HQ swung open, and in walked Fox with a monstrous bag of candy in each hand, a wave of dust hot on his heels. He plopped the candy down on the reception desk, panting slightly to catch his breath. "So Falco, we get any new contracts yet?"

Falco sat behind the desktop monitor, intently staring at the screen as if performing brain surgery. "Yeah, Special Olympics called."

"Really?" Fox asked as he straightened up. "What'd they want?"

"You."

Fox closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Walked right into that one... Say, what're you working on right now? I thought you'd rip into the candy as soon as I brought it back."

Falco waved him off. "Not now! I'm busy playing the little T-Rex game."

"Well that's productive," Fox commented. "Wait, is our internet down?"

From a room down the hall, Slippy's muffled voice cried, _"Fixed it!"_ to which Falco abruptly stood up from his chair and slammed his fists on the reception desk.

"No! NOOO! Goddammit Slippy! I was almost at your record!..." He trailed off, looking at the webpage he was at before their internet cut out. "Hey Fox, looks like we did receive a contract. And it's for tonight!"

Fox pumped his fist. "Yes! One more mission for Star Fox Junior Squadron! Good thing Dad's preoccupied again with some scouting assignment on Venom. Looks like we'll just have to accept and fulfill the contract in his place."

Falco grimaced. "Er, I dunno about that Fox. Your dad seemed pretty pissed last time we took a job on our own. Remember we almost got a chancellor candidate killed—"

Fox placed a furry digit on Falco's beak. "Shh-shh-shh! We never talk about last episode. I think this is another perfect opportunity to prove to Dad we're responsible, capable..." He began counting on his fingers but quickly gave it up when he ran out of adjectives.

"...What if it's just playing video games again?" Falco asked.

"Then we stay here and pass out candy like we planned. Oh, did you get the business cards printed?"

"Yeah, but I don't see what we're going to—"

"We're going to hand them out with the candy."

Falco blinked. "Wait, what the f—"

"Little Tommy's been bullied too much on the playground, Falco. Now quit questioning every decision I make and open that contract."

Fox rounded the reception desk and looked over Falco's shoulder at the screen. The avian opened the contract offer, and the two wannabe mercenaries read it silently to themselves. After a couple minutes, Falco began nodding approval. "Alright, looks like a decent job: security detail for the Cortez family's Halloween party. That's better than watching horror movies and passing out candy—and _business_ cards—all night. The only problem I see is that they were expecting your dad's team, not us."

"No, it's to the attention of Mr. McCloud. I'm a Mr. McCloud, right?"

"It's implied in the letter, Fox."

"Where? Point me to where they explicitly say " _James_ McCloud." Uh-huh, that's right! You _can't._ "

Falco turned his wings face-upward. "They basically want chaperones to make sure the teens don't trash their house! You don't want teenagers like us policing other teens. What if we get distracted and join in on the fun? What kinda chaperones would we make?"

"Falco, it's a Halloween party. There will be girls and spiked punch, and best of all the parents won't be there."

"Oh," Falco said. He scratched his head. "You know, I think this is one of those times where I disagree with you just to be a dick."

"I'm thinking that too. Plus the mansion is located next to a graveyard, which A), makes it more spooky, and B), raises the likelihood that a certain attractive panther will be there."

"You want to go to the party to meet _Panther?_ "

Fox slapped his hand over his forehead. "No, you moron. That cute Goth dish I told you about? The cemetery where I met her is basically the mansion's back yard. I'd lay you ten-to-one she'll be there. Halloween's like her version of Christmas."

Falco's jaw dropped. "Whoa, so by that logic Christmas is like her Halloween. I've always wondered what Goths dress up as on Halloween. It bust be Santa!"

"Kill yourself, Falco." Fox grabbed the bag of candy off the desk, eyeing it thoughtfully. "Since we won't be here to pass out candy, we might as well eat it ourselves, right?"

"Heck, bring it to the party. I haven't gone trick-or-treating since I was in grade-school."

"You lived on Zoness, right?"

Falco shivered at the memory. "Yeah, it was a nightmare. You know we lived on these cities built on terraformed reefs, and they all had canals instead of streets? So the neighbors' favorite trick was getting the sidewalk to flip us into the waterway, or have something extend from the door and push us off. By the end of the night there was more candy floating in the canals than in our baskets."

"Brutal," Fox growled. "Now let's tell Slippy and Miyu about our plans. We also need to get suitable costumes. Nothing too gruesome, just enough to capture that Halloween spirit."

* * *

During the next two hours, the junior members of Star Fox got their paws on outfits and met back at the reception area. Before leaving headquarters, they looked each other up and down, admiring their costumes.

"Gee Fox, you look rather... scene," Miyu finished. Fox had dyed his hair oily black and styled it in large choppy waves that swept across his face. His ears were pierced with fake gauges, and his eyes were highlighted with thick black shadow. "Is there something you want to tell us, Fox? You don't play with sharp objects in the bathroom, I hope?"

"Hey, I don't give a rats tail about scene kids. But I guarantee Black Mamba will go for this costume like a moth towards the lens flares in a J.J. Abrams film, and if that's what she wants, I'm willing to change. As for you, I see you're also busy nostalgizing over decades before your time. What are you from, the 30's?"

Miyu spread her arms. "This is a zoot suit. I think they're great!" Miyu wore a red-striped coat with padded shoulders, opened to reveal a white dress shirt and baggy pants held up by suspenders. Even her shoes were black and white brogues from the period. "They had a lot more class back in the 4,030's than you scene kids."

"Look, I've already agreed, screw scene kids!"

Falco scratched his chin. "Why men's though?"

Miyu suddenly looked nervous. "Uh, h-how about your costume, Slippy?!"

"I'm the Kold-Aid guy," Slippy proudly stated. He wore a small, yellow, button-down shirt that exposed his flabby stomach and chest, which he had painted lime green—the staple flavor of the kids' drink mix—along with the mascot's smiling face. "Ah YES!" he exclaimed as he ran head-on towards a wall. Rather than crash through it, he bumped his green noggin on the dry-wall and stumbled backwards, dazed. "That's the part in the commercials where I—"

"Yeah yeah, we get it Slippy." Fox cut him off. Turning from Slippy and the pitcher-shaped dent left in the dry-wall, Fox pointed an accusing finger at Falco. "I don't see _you_ masquerading as anything, Falco."

"What, you seriously can't tell?" Falco gestured at himself, acting confused and unbelieving of Fox even though he knew full well he wasn't wearing anything besides his regular clothes. "I'm the scariest thing I can think of. Go ahead, take a guess."

"Everything wrong with our current generation," Fox and Miyu said in unison, both flaunting their decades clothing.

"Wrong, Einstein. I'm a broken condom!"

Miyu's nose wrinkled. "That's not very scary."

"It is if you're me."

"Then where's your costume, Falco?" Fox asked.

"Don't need one."

…

* * *

Fox drove the other three mercenaries in his blue Messara through the local town which I haven't even bothered naming yet. They had to take side streets and back alleys, as Main Street was completely overridden by fire engines, marching bands, spooky Halloween floats, and costumed kids like Nazis on a German autobahn. The journey took longer than anticipated, but eventually they pulled up in front of the Cortez family mansion.

Even without the Halloween decorations, the imposing house looked Gothic. Parched, empty fountains with winged anthropoi statues, iron gates and fences all the way around, the town's cemetery located in the backyard, and the four-story mansion itself, complete with columns, gargoyles, empty windows, and spired towers. On top of the mansion's base unsettling character, numerous decorations had been added: cobwebs hanging between the columns, giant spiders stationed over the gables, and bats hanging in the windows. A healthy amount of jack-o-lanterns also lined the long drive up to the entrance.

After parking and exiting Fox's Messara, the teammates headed in the direction of the porch and towering front doors. Everyone except Fox, that is, who began veering off towards the cemetery.

"You guys know the drill," he reminded them. "Don't allow the teens to get too rowdy, monitor the bedrooms and guestrooms, and absolutely no alcoholic substances."

"And where do you think you're going?" Slippy asked suspiciously.

Fox scrambled for an answer. "Oh, I thought I'd just check the back of the house. Maybe look around the cemetery, check out that mausoleum, make sure no kids are like... smoking pot—"

But before Fox could make any more headway towards the mausoleum Miyu grabbed him by the ear and painfully lead him back onto the path. A couple of adult leopards had just stepped out onto the porch, closing the imposing doors behind them. To Fox's elation, they were male and female black panthers—the same species as his crush.

Letting go of Fox's ear, Miyu addressed the panthers. "Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Cortez. We've come to supervise your Halloween party."

"Oh dear," Mrs. Cortez placed a paw over her mouth. "Are you Star Fox? We were expecting someone, well... _older._ "

"The whole reason we hired you was to have someone mature watching over the party," Mr. Cortez added.

"Oh I'm mature AF, sir," Falco stated.

"I was voted the most likely to get premature gray hair in my class," Fox bragged.

"Uh, I-I play a lot of mature video games," Slippy volunteered.

Mr. Cortez noticed Falco holding something in his wings. "Excuse me, but why do you have a bottle wrapped in a brown paper sack?"

Falco attempted to hide the suspicious bottle behind his back, but it was no use. Shifting on his feet, he replied, "Oh, you mean _this_ bottle? It's for, uh... spin the bottle! Yeah! Some nice, wholesome, spin the... bottle..."

After a pause of tense silence, the panther smirked. "Well that's slightly better. _Barely_ , but still slightly better."

Miyu face-palmed before turning back to the Cortezes. "You'll have to excuse them, please. They may be immature, but they're still willing to do an exceptional job to further the Star Fox PMC. We want to prove ourselves, you understand."

Mrs. Cortez smiled at Miyu. "I have no doubt of your own maturity, darling. If you can keep your own friends in check, I am sure our house is left in safe, capable paws."

Mr. Cortez narrowed his eyes at Fox, Falco, and Slippy, but ultimately defaulted to his wife's judgment. "Well, as long as no one gets hurt, the house isn't burned down, and our neighbors don't call the police because of the noise, you'll get full pay."

"I don't think our neighbors are in any condition to phone the police, Sebastian," Mrs. Cortez argued. "After all, they're dead."

The husband and wife broke out into cackling laughter, holding their sides as they proceeded past Star Fox Junior Squad. Fox and Slippy even laughed along awkwardly, while Miyu just shook her head and Falco looked worriedly at the cemetery. Once they had left in a bus-long limousine, Fox pumped his fist.

"Yes! This means Black Mamba _definitely_ lives here! I don't know why I didn't realize it before, but it all makes sense now. Excessively rich, eccentric, and distant parents, her penchant for Gothic style, and the fact that she's an only child!" Fox rudely pushed past Slippy and Miyu, rushing to the front door. "Out of my way! I've got to find her."

Miyu, Slippy, and Falco followed Fox into the large mansion. The gosh damn second Falco stepped onto the foyer, every male within eyesight of him pointed and ran screaming from the room. One even fainted and crumpled onto the stairs.

Falco simpered at Fox. "See? What'd I tell ya."

"Either they know you're a broken condom, or you face is just that scary."

The avian's expression soured, and he stormed off into the house. Palming the paper-wrapped bottle, Falco mumbled something about "not having to take that" and "finding a punch-bowl to spike."

With Falco gone, Fox sent out the other members. "Miyu, start scoping out the house. Count the number of bedrooms, bathrooms, and closets. Make a note of every suspicious character you see, including university students. When you're done, report back to me, and we'll work out a strategy. Slippy, go play video games. Slippy? Aaaaand he's gone already. Meanwhile, I will look for the host of the party."

"Do I literally have to do everything myself?" Miyu groaned. "Alright, go find your crush. And good luck."

The two split up, with Miyu taking a hallway down the left and Fox entering the living room on the right. He wove through hordes of costumed high-schoolers, an unprecedented amount of which were red-suited Deceasedpools (if they were male) and Bob-Marley Quinns (if they were female). He said a quick 'hello' to anyone he knew, but ultimately didn't pause to chit-chat. He had more important things to accomplish.

"Fox!" he heard his name called above the ambient party noise. Pivoting his head, he saw Fara Phoenix leaving a group of girls to come see him.

"Hey Fara, how ya doing? Nice outfit by the way."

Fara smiled and curtsied, showing off her Grenda the Good Witch costume from the _Wizard of... Ox_. And I think that's the last parody of the day. "Thanks! Glad you could make it."

"Say, you wouldn't happen to know a pantheress by the name of Black Mamba, would you?"

"Black Mamba?" Fara paused to think. "Do you mean Priscilla?"

"You know, the Goth girl that lives here?"

"What's a "Goth girl?"

Fox cleared his throat. "Ahem. **Goth Girl** : _no_ _un_. A teen girl who gets off watching _Foamy the Squirrel_ on Newgrounds _._ com while signing a "Bring Back _Invader Zim"_ petition wearing a Jack Skellington hoodie and Happy Tree Friends tube socks purchased from Hot Topic during an _Emily the Strange_ buy-one-get-one 50% off sale where she discovered _Serenity Rose_ from Slave Labor Graphic Comics while her over-bearing but loving father restricts her from going to the My Chemical Romance/Limp Bizkit concert with a five-years older-than-her boyfriend that constantly IMs unsourced stolen _Pon and Zi_ comic art over 56k modem American Online trial discs on Myspace _._ com with a top eight consisting of Tim Burton, Jack Sparrow, Eminem, Jesus Christ, and whatever angsty band is the new thing on _Disney Adventures_ magazine and spends all day filling out 'What Kingdom Hearts character are you?' quizzes only to complain she didn't get Riku and is unable to watch the 2003 MTV music awards because her deadbeat older brother is always hogging the living room TV playing Tony Hawk's _Underground_ on his Halo edition transparent green Xbox using a third-party MadCatz airflow controller with a busted analog stick constantly leaning to the right making anti-Semitic remarks on how Eric Sparrow stole his Wicked McTwist over the helicopter in Hawaii footage." *****

"That's the one! She's actually one of the two girls I planned this party with. Priscilla's a quiet girl in school—never seen her at any other party, so she's pretty antisocial. But her parents own the biggest, creepiest house in town, so I decided to approach her. She's kinda nice, but super shy and cold. The other girl was Fay."

"Yeah, that's the Black Mamba I'm after. Shy, unfeeling, antisocial—wait, did you say _Fay?"_

"You mean you know Fay?" Fara asked, delighted. "She's an exchange student from Corneria, probably just as rich as Priscilla, but the exact opposite of her in every other way."

But Fox had stopped listening to Fara, pupils dilating as he zeroed in on one white-furred Cocker Spaniel over her shoulder. He grabbed Fara's shoulders, interrupting her.

"Hey!"

"We gotta run! I can't let her see me!"

Before Fara could protest anymore, Fox rushed her through the crowd of party-goers like a receiver delivering the football to the end zone. He took her down a few hallways, passed the kitchen, and into a wider party area towards the back of the house. More tables had been set up in this room, with troths of candy, chips, and dip. A six-piece band was setting up on a raised platform in front of the fireplace mantle, with monstrous-sized amps, tangles of black wires, a drum set, and a wide keyboard.

"Alright Fox, why are you avoiding Fay?" Fara asked after he set her down.

"That girl's been after me ever since the pilot episode," Fox explained. "She wants to join the team _really_ bad!"

"So? Why don't you let her?"

"Because she's a _nut!_ " Fox exploded. "She's hyperactive, she has no self-control, she slobbers all over me like a ragdoll, she's too energetic to manage, and she might endanger the team. Plush she's a girl, and she could screw up the team's dynamic."

"What about Miyu? She's a girl and you let her on your team."

Fox pulled Fara closer to his face, looking her dead in the eye to communicate the urgency of the situation. "I _especially_ can't let her on because of Miyu! _That's_ the dynamic I was talking about."

"Well you offered me the chance to join," Fara _harrumphed_.

"Yeah, and the offer's still open."

"Then can't I give that offer to Fay instead?"

Fox rubbed his forehead as if the weight of the world was bearing down on his shoulders. "Look, it's bad enough arguing with Fay. Do I have to spend this Halloween party arguing with you too?"

Fara stepped back, nodding a bit. "Okay Fox, I understand. I'm sorry for pressing it. It's just Fay's a new friend of mine..."

"And I wouldn't mind her as a friend, too. It's just the annoying way she worships me." There was an awkward pause between them, in which they glanced around the room. Fox's eyes alighted on the band once again. "Say, uh, who'd you get to play here?"

"Oh, them? They're called Sasquatch Prostitute. They were the only band available in the area who were tagged 'dance'."

True to their name, the six members were all dressed in hairy Bigfoot costumes, though the singers played with the masks off.

Fox took a second to count the instruments, mouthing the number of guitars as he did so. " _One, two, three, four—_ Isn't four guitars a bit too many for a dance band?"

100% on cue, the tallest of the band members screamed out, "GOOO!" Followed by a solid sonic wall that knocked everyone in the room off their feet. The simple but punishing riffs and drum beat kept the party-goers pinned to the ground while the musicians full-body headbanged in time with the... """""""""""""""song"""""""""""""". But after the verse was over, the keboard, synths, and electronic baseline kicked in, accompanied by the second singer's heavily auto-tuned voice. After the genre of the song abruptly switched to electronic dance, the guests in the room cautiously climbed to their feet and began dancing along. Both Fox and Fara stood up as well, pumping their fists and hopping to the melodic chorus.

"IS THIS EVEN LEGAL?!" Fox shouted above the music.

Not long after the song started the backdoor burst open, revealing a decaying body dressed in a black suit. The zombie shook his fist at Sasquatch Prostitute before wincing at the noise, covering his ear holes, and walking back out into the cemetery.

 _Metal elitist,_ Fox thought. He turned to look back at the six performing Bigfoots on stage only to lock eyes with Fay. Though he couldn't hear it, he saw her muzzle mouth the word _Fox_ and her eyes light up at his sight. Fox stumbled backwards, rudely shoving his way through the crowd and unwittingly inciting a mosh pit as he went. Before he knew what happened, he had the whole room rotating in donut-shaped circle pit, the participants of which pushed, jostled, and bumped into each other as they rotated around Fay at the center. Fox tried slipping away discretely, but at the last second Fay caught sight of him and bowled through the crowd in pursuit.

Fox scrambled down the hallways of the mansion with Fay hot on his heels. In the process he bumped into a few people and ruined a couple costumes, which all seemed to be for nothing; Fay had cornered him at the end of a hallway. Luckily there were two doors, but the first one was locked. Fox tried the second door, which opened into a small, dark bathroom. Slamming the door behind him, he gasped for breath. He could tell Fay wasn't giving up, however, as the two shadows of her feet blocked the light from entering through thin slat beneath the door.

"Fay, go away! It's not polite!"

"Avoiding me this whole party hasn't been polite!" the spaniel's muffled voice came through the door. "Now let me talk to you!"

"Do you know what privacy means?" Fox shouted back. "I need to take a piss right now, and you better not stay to hear me do it! Ooooh it feels like a big one coming on! Oh yeah I've been loading up on fizzy soda ever since I arrived at this house! In fact, I've been drinking extra water all day to keep myself hydrated! It was a long car ride over here, and I haven't used the bathroom all day!"

"You wouldn't dare pee in front of me, Fox McCloud—not your biggest fan!"

Fox found the toilet in the dark, slamming it open so Fay could hear. "I'm opening the toooooileeeeet!" he warned in a sing-song voice.

"Please Fox, I _need_ to talk to you!"

"I'm unzippin' me pants!" he called as he noisily zipped and unzipped his skinny jeans.

"Foooox," Fay moaned in desperation.

The vulpine's only response was to aggressively snap the elastic waist band on his briefs, which seemed to finally do the trick. At long last, the situation became even too awkward for Fay, who ran in terror from the bathroom and its male occupant. Fox breathed a sigh of ease, then decided he might as well relieve himself while the opportunity presented it. He moved away from the toilet to find the light switch, but bumped into something else in the room. It was too tall and soft to be the sink, and too firm to be hand towels. Feeling around with his hands, he identified a pair of legs and sexy garter straps. Within a second, he knew who it was, but flipped on the light switch just to be safe.

When the lights in the bathroom came on, he found himself uncomfortably close to none other than Black Mamba, the Goth dish he had been in pursuit of all evening.

"Well surprise surprise, Mamba. Fancy meeting you here!" he exclaimed.

The pantheress glared at Fox with the malevolent eyes he admired so much, but her gaze was drawn down towards the fox's torso. She gasped suddenly and flipped the lights back off, plunging the bathroom into darkness.

"Mmm, good idea," Fox purred. "I like it better this way, too."

 _"_ _Fox,"_ Black Mamba said in her artificially generated voice.

"Yes, babe?"

 _"_ _Please zip your pants."_

Fox's ears flushed in embarrassment. He fumbled with the zipper for a second before jerking it upwards as fast as possible. "Ow-how-hooow!" he cried out in pain when he caught himself in the zipper. _Why now, god, of all times?!_

 _"_ _Nighty-night, Fox,"_ Black Mamba whispered. She forced a pungent-smelling cloth over his mouth and nostrils, effectively filtering his oxygen supply. Fox attempted to call out in a muffled voice, struggling slightly to break free from her hold, but he was too busy trying to extricate himself from the zipper to fight back. They thrashed about in the bathroom for a full minute, but still the chloroform cloth hadn't taking effect yet. Black Mamba was getting impatient.

 _"_ _Why isn't this thing working?"_ she huffed through her electrolarynx, forcefully jamming the cloth into Fox's face.

"You've got to hold it over my mouth and nose _reaaally_ tight, babe," Fox informed her, voice muffled by the anesthetic-soaked cloth. "Even then it might take several minutes. Don't worry, I can wait."

 _"_ _I'm applying all the pressure I can!"_ Mamba complained.

"I have an idea, let's help each other. I'll push harder on the cloth while you unstick me from this zipper. Deal?"

The pantheress sighed. _"Alright. Deal. Now hold this."_

Mamba waited until Fox's hands were firmly situated on the cloth before kneeling down to work on his pants. They continued on in this manner for some time, Fox trying to asphyxiate himself while the jungle cat fumbled with his zipper.

 _"_ _Wow, you've really got yourself stuck."_ After feeling something particularly disturbing, her hands froze. _"Oh my god, you're_ actually _getting off on..."_

Mamba jumped back up to her feet. She gave up on the cloth, instead opting for the direct method. Grabbing Fox's head, she slammed his skull into the towel rack, hoping to induce immediate black out.

 _"..._ _Fox, are you still conscious?"_

The vulpine groaned, "Soooo hot right now," followed by another ram into the towel rack.

* * *

"Falco, Slippy, Miyuuuu!" Fay shouted as she ran back into the living room. Slippy reluctantly gave up his controller while Miyu finished scolding some teens she had caught smoking.

"Hey, who are you?" Miyu asked suspiciously, "and how do you know our names?"

"You're Miyu Lynx, and you're Slippy Toad, the mechanic. You're both members of Star Fox, the youngest mercenaries in Lylat!"

Slippy snapped his fingers, sending a spray of controller sweat onto the floor. "Now I remember. You were that girl who approached Fox in that nurse outfit and asked if you could join the team."

"That's me alright," Fay confirmed. "By the way, how do you like my outfit?"

Just like the majority of the other girls at the party, Fay was dressed as Bob Marley Quinn—long dreadlocks with highlights, a red, yellow, and green t-shirt, bare midriff, and short shorts. Slippy gestured furiously at the outfit.

"Seriously, when did _this_ become more attractive than the old Marley Quinn design?"

Miyu cleared her throat. "Ahem. There was something urgent you had to tell us?"

"There was?" Fay stared up at the ceiling for a moment, balancing on the balls of her feet. "Oh, right!" She took a deep breath. "FOX HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED!"

"Kidnapped? Where, when, by who?" Miyu demanded.

"He went into the bathroom and never came out! I waited outside, but got suspicious, so I broke in. When I did he was gone, and all I found was this suspicious cloth!" She presented Miyu and Slippy with the same chemical-soaked rag Black Mamba had used on the unsuspecting but submissive Fox.

"Psh, chloroform?" Miyu asked. "Give me a break. That stuff couldn't knock out a fly on his deathbed."

"Sure it can. Watch!"

Catching Slippy off guard, Fay slapped the rag over his nose and mouth, holding it there while he struggled.

"Fox, Miyu!" Falco called as he rushed into the room.

"Oh, now what?" Miyu groaned.

Falco rushed over to their little threesome, but paused when he noticed Fay trying to asphyxiate Slippy. "Here, let me help." He placed his wings over Fay's paws, helping her apply extra pleasure. Whoops. There's a typo I have to keep.

"MmmMMM!" Slippy _mmmmed_ desperately.

"Anyway, I found a dead body!" Falco continued.

"It better not be Fox's," Miyu worried.

"Nah, it was this extra hot hooker. You see, I was spiking the punchbowl with Blue Steer, but I dropped my bottle in by accident. While fishing around in the punch, I discovered her body. It was disgusting!"

"Alright Falco, take us to her," Miyu said.

Falco lead Miyu, Fay, Slippy, and many of the other guests into an adjacent room filled with refreshments. The members of Sasquatch Prostitute also followed them.

Falco stopped by the enormously large punchbowl. "She's in there," he said, pointing.

"Well don't just stand there, get her out!" Miyu ordered. The lynx bit her claws as Falco and Slippy scooped the scantily-clad mouse out of the red punch, laying her limp body on the table next to the bowl.

 _"_ _Oh mein gott!"_ one of the Sasquatch Prostitutes exclaimed. _"Es ist Gretta!"_

 _"Grettaaa!"_ the other members wailed.

Emerging from the crowd, Fara explained, "She's one of their hookers. They insisted on bringing them along."

"The dumb blondes always die first," Slippy shook his head.

 _"_ _Du bist der nächste, Gwendolyn,"_ one of the members said as he patted a second hooker on the head.

Another pointed at the dead mouse's thong, exclaiming, _"Sehen da!"_

 _"_ _Oh, du hast recht."_ The third member snatched a pair of soggy euros from her panties.

 _"_ _Nein,_ heir _!"_ the second member pointed beside where the bills had been.

"He's right, there's something else there." Miyu grabbed a note also tucked into the hooker's thong strap. Shaking the fruit punch out of it, the lynx tried reading the dripping ink. ""If you want to see Fox again, you must come to the highest towel— _tower._ There is a secret passage in the chimney. Signed, Black Mamba." Oh no, we have to save Fox _fast!"_

Breaking free of the chloroform rag, Slippy managed to gasp out, "Nah, Fox probably enjoys it. Let's let the love birds go at it for awhile."

In Fox's absence, Miyu usually took command of the team. "Who knows what horrors she's doing to him right now. Fara, you stay here and watch over the party for us. Falco—"

"I'll stay here too, got it."

"Nuh-uh. You're coming with me, Slippy, and Fay. We need your help, and Fara has her hands full as it is. You'd just be more work."

"What, and miss out on this awesome punch after I went to the trouble of spiking it? I don't think so."

"That's disgusting, Falco. A dead body's been marinading in that bowl."

"It's still good Blue Steer..."

"Ve vant to come, too," Gwendolyn the second hooker said with a thick Macbethan accent. The six members of Sasquatch Prostitute agreed, nodding their heads—or just headbanging, I can't tell.

"Well, you're actually adults, so I guess we can't tell you 'no'." Miyu sighed. "Come on then, let's climb up that fireplace."

The procession returned to the living room. Behind the band's setup was the fireplace, but they had to tear down their backdrop poster—a picture of Bigfoot taking a bath with the album title "Krystals" printed atop it. One by one, they crawled into the cramped chimney space and shimmied their way up.

Falco stuck his head in, calling after them, "Try not to end up as Halloween decorations!"

"You're a big help, Falco."

* * *

After climbing up through the chimney, they took an exit through a hole in the back wall and spilled out into the second floor. Slippy asked if they could have just taken the stairs, to which he got no reply. Miyu took a moment to count the number of their party.

"There's me, Slippy, Fay, the six members of Sasquatch Prostitute, and their hooker. One two three four five... there's only five. Where'd the drummer go?"

 _"_ _Oh Michael?"_ one of the Bigfoots asked. _"_ _Wo ist Michael?"_

 _"Hilfe! Ich stecke fest!"_ a voice echoed up through the chimney.

The keyboardist stuck his head back through the wall. _"Michaaaael!"_

 _"_ _Ho ho ho! Kevin, ich bin Weihnachtsmann!"_

Miyu scratched her head. "Slippy, wasn't the drummer between you and me when we climbed up?"

Slippy shrugged, and Sasquatch Prostitute bid farewell to their drummer. The drummer is always the first to go, much like the blonde in a horror movie. Before them was a tiled hallway with strange symbols painted on each of the squares. The hall was mostly dark, light only by candelabras lining the walls.

 _"_ _Für Gretta!"_ one of the Sasquatches shouted before barreling down the hallway.

"No, wait!" Fay called, but it was too late. The guitarist raced down the hall, only to step on a tile and have it fall out from underneath him. His screams were cut short by a wet _THHHCK!_ impaled on a forest of spikes.

The lead vocalist shrugged. _"Eh. Er war nur ein Rhythmusgitarrist."_

"Wow Fay, you've got a good eye!" Miyu praised her. "How'd you know it was trapped?"

"We're dealing with a psychopathic girl who gets her Halloween lulz from abducting people. She's bound to play some sort of games with us."

"Sashimi vinks he knows 'ow to kross die floor," the second hooker said.

"Ja, ja!" the keyboardist exclaimed. Everyone else listened intently while he rapidly explained in Macbethan the solution to the puzzle. He pointed furiously back and fourth between the tiles, addressing each of the specific symbols adorning them. Ultimately he pointed to one that was seven tiles out from where they presently stood.

"So he thinks the tiles with the owls on them are safe," Slippy concluded. "I don't know whether to believe him or not, but I didn't understand a word of his explanation, so I'll have to take his word for it."

Kevin passed his beer to Gwendolyn. _"_ _Hier, halte mein Bier."_ Starting at the other end of the hallway, the Sasquatch scrapped his feet against the floor before taking off in a mad sprint. The wind whipped through the fur of his Bigfoot costume as he blew past their group. At the edge of the trapped tiles, he bent his knees and leapt across the floor. His jump was good, his execution flawless, the tile wrong. Screaming a few unclean vocals, Kevin too plummeted into the spikes below.

The lead vocalist looked over the edge this time. _"_ _Vermutung wir sind nicht mehr elektronisch_ _"_

"We're already down half of Sasquatch Prostitute, and we haven't even passed the first trap yet," Miyu remarked. "Well, any ideas Fay?" she asked hopefully.

Still in Bob Marley Quinn costume, Fay blew a green bubble of weed bubblegum. After popping it, she was hit with sudden inspiration. She pointed along the edges of the wall. "Look, the tiles end a little before the base of the walls. If we hug the walls really carefully, I bet we could scoot across!"

"Great idea!" Miyu congratulated her. "Let's try it."

Fay lead the way, followed by Miyu and Slippy. Gwendolyn passed next, handing Kevin's _Bier_ to the Sashimi so she could get a firm grip on the walls. That member repeated her action, handing it to the next member, who handed it to the last remaining Prostitute. Looking between the beer bottle and the other side of the hallway, he appeared powerless to continue. Instead he shrugged, sat down on the edge of the tiles, and proceeded to enjoy the rest of the beer.

Looking over her shoulder Miyu commented, "Aaaand we just lost another."

The guitarist toasted her, smiling widely.

In the middle of the crossing, the bass guitarist tapped Sashimi on the shoulder and pointed at a painting on the opposite wall. _"_ _Schauen Sashimi, Titten!"_

 _"_ _Titten?_ _W_ _o?! Aaaaaah!"_

While Sashimi was distracted, the bass player pushed him onto the tiles, laughing hysterically. Like the two other members, the lead vocalist fell into the spike trap.

When they had gathered safely on the other side, Miyu once again paused to take a headcount. "Oh my god, you guys are so incompetent. You're even less mature than Fox and Falco are."

Once they had all entered the room at the other end of the hall, iron portcullises fell from the ceiling, blocking any escape from the room.

"I've got a very bad icy chilly creaky sinking cold warning danger feeling about this," Slippy managed to string together.

"Quick, look for a way out!" Miyu ordered. "Fox's time is growing short. I have a feeling Mamba hid a super secret passage in this room."

The room was just as dimly lit as the hallway, with a variety of medieval weapons adorning the walls: maces, swords, halberds, shields—even bows and arrows. Four onyx-suits of armor stood at the corners of the room, standing as motionless as statues.

"Ah! Look out!" Gwendolyn screamed.

Miyu, Fay, Slippy, and the bass player all looked up to see the dark suits of armor suddenly moving on their own.

"They're possessed!" Slippy screamed.

But Miyu's time spent playing RPGs in virtual reality had prepared her for this moment. Grabbing a spear off the wall, she engaged the nearest of the undead knights in righteous combat. Fay and Gwendolyn followed her example, each grabbing a medieval weapon off the wall. The bassist removed the head from his Bigfoot costume and pulled an entire guitar out through the neck hole. He whacked it savagely against the nearest suit of armor, each strike playing an automated baseline from the amp that still sat at the base of the fireplace. Slippy meanwhile cowered at the center of the room, sweating pails.

None of the anthropoi made any progress against their opponent. The suit of armor attacking the bass player grabbed his guitar, shoving it over his head and choking the musician with its strings. Miyu, Fay, and Gwendolyn all steadily lost ground, pushed towards the center of the room where Slippy sat in a fetal position.

Infuriated by her inability to damage the knight, Miyu cried out, "Oh just drop dead you bitch!"

This caused the armor in front of her to pause. "Is that you, Bitch?" a hollow voice came from within. The black knight raised a gloved hand to his accomplices. "Hold off boys, I think I know this woman." He knelt down in front of Miyu, removing his helmet to reveal a skeletal face. "It's me, Bitch: Garamond!"

"Garamond!" Miyu cried. She immediately dropped her spear, rushing forward to hug the massive hunk of iron. "Garamond my Bitch, where have you been all this time?"

"Well, after you killed me on Arcadia, I respawned and went on a journey to find myself. It didn't take too long. I was right there!"

"Oh, I forgot mini-bosses could respawn," Miyu sighed in relief.

"Perks of being a skeleton. You should try respawning sometime."

"Thanks, I'll try that the next time I... die..." Miyu shook her head. "Anyway, how'd you wind up here?"

"Well, after I found myself, I went looking for a job that paid more. Video game currency doesn't translate well into the real world. So I got a job as a Halloween decoration at this mansion. It's a swell job, but it's only a seasonal thing. The rest of the year I model."

"You, _model_? _"_ Miyu asked in disbelief.

"That's right. In anatomy classrooms!" Garamond broke into a fit of rattling laughter. "Sorry I attacked you, Bitch. It's hard to see through the slats in this helmet, and it's dark in here as it is. But you need to rescue some Fox fella, huh? And those bars are in your way?"

Garamond clunked over to the portcullis blocking their exit. Removing the armor around his arm, Garamond flexed his humerus. "But first, tell me what you think of _these_ guns!"

"You don't have muscles, Garamond."

"Oh that's right. Guess I'm just thick-skulled. DAAA-HA-HA-HAAA! ...Right, the door."

Grabbing two of the center-most bars, Garamond wrent yonder portcullis in twain. Forsooth, say I. Cholera.

"I'd lend a hand in rescuing this Fox fellow, but my armor's too big to fit through the door. You'll have to carry on without me."

"Thanks Garamond, you've been a big enough help already," Miyu assured him. "I'll check all the middle-school classrooms for you!"

Garamond blushed and looked to the side awkwardly, crossing his legs. "Whoa now, you wouldn't embarrass me like that..."

"Later Bitch!" Miyu waved as she exited the room with her friends. In the next area they stopped to catch their breath. "Well, at least we didn't lose the sole surviving member of Sasquatch Prostitute, huh?" She paused to look around. "Wait, where's the bassist?"

No sooner had she finished her question when the final musician crawled through the broken portcullis, his neck still threaded through his guitar.

"Oh my god, he's still being strangled!" Fay exclaimed. Rushing back she struggled to lift the guitar off his head. "Help me, he's dying!" The rest of their party gathered around the bassist, but failed to get the strings off before he choked to death.

Taking off her wide-brimmed hat, Miyu declared, "A moment of silence for Sasquatch Prostitute. Died before they fell into the obscurity of the electronicore scene."

The passageway was silent for a few seconds until Slippy blurted out, "You know there's literally another guitarist several rooms back enjoying a beer right now?"

"No time for this!" Fay screeched, rushing past them. "Gotta rescue Fox!"

The next room contained their final trial. As before, iron bars descended to trap them in the room, only this time there were no dangerous medieval weapons or imposing suits of armor. Instead, towers of flame shot up on either side of the room, slowly crawling across the lavish rug towards them. At the rate the flames were burning, their strange tint of color, and the height they reached, the carpet must have contained some extremely flammable chemical. On the far side of the room next to the exit, a projector flashed a question on the wall.

 _What TV show is Star Fox based off of?_

"Quick, answer the question and we can get out of here!" Miyu guessed.

"Ooh, ooh, I know this one!" Slippy exclaimed. "It's based off, uh... give me a second." The mechanic took a moment to whip out his cellphone, only to curse when he discovered something jamming the nearby cell towers.

"I've got the answer!" Fay proclaimed. "It's _Thunder_ _c_ _ats!"_

The flames continued inching closer to them.

"No? Then maybe it's... _Lightning_ _b_ _irds?"_

Still no reaction from the approaching fire or the projector.

"Hmm, guess I forgot. Let me check my notes."

"You have _notes_ with the answers?" Miyu asked suspiciously.

Surprising them all, Gwendolyn stepped forward, taking the projector head-on.

" _Thunderbirds,"_ she stated.

To everyone's relief the projection flashed green and emitted a positive beep, but it wasn't over yet. A number '2' appeared, followed by the second question.

 _What famous movie is the Katina level an homage to?_

" _Independence Day,"_ Gwendolyn answered.

 _What was the first Star Fox VR experience?_

" _Star Fox Virtual Boy,_ 4,094."

 _What is the current highscore for Star Fox 64?_

"2929 hits, held by INGX!"

Confetti suddenly popped down from the ceiling, and the projector displayed,

 _Now you are ready for the $99,000 question!_ _Which cereal allowed its consumers to send in for an LCD game watch of the original Star Fox?_

This time Gwendolyn thought for a moment. "Uh... Corn Flakes?"

There was a dramatic drumroll as everyone in the room caught their breath. Dispensing with their worries, the screen once again light up green, displaying _Correct!_ Immediately the flames were extinguished, the iron gates were lifted, and money rained down from vents in the ceiling.

"Congratulations, Gwen!" Slippy exclaimed, giving her a high-five. "You know more about our team than I do!"

Fay placed her hands on her hips and _humphed_ indignantly. "Well I _would've_ gotten them all if you gave me the chance. But that doesn't matter; I'm still going to be the only one to save Fox!"

Before anyone could stop her, the spaniel rushed through the doorway, only for the portcullises to descend behind her, cutting anyone off from following.

"ARRRGH!" Miyu growled. "Now we'll never rescue Fox!"

* * *

Fay rushed through the doorway into a tall, spiral staircase. She nearly grew dizzy from climbing the whole thing so quickly, but nothing in the Lylat was going to keep her from rescuing Fox. At the top of the stairs was a trap door, which she climbed up a ladder to get through. Once inside she found herself in Black Mamba's bedroom. Glancing upwards, she noticed Fox bound in chains suspended over a steaming vat of acid.

"Fay!" he exclaimed. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank goodness you came! It was fun hanging with Black Mamba for a while, but eventually she just left me here. You've gotta get me down."

"Alright, you can count on me, Fox!" Fay's eyes darted around the room until they alighted on a tall step ladder backed against the other side of the circular room. After wheeling it over to the vat of acid, she climbed it and set to work on Fox's chains. Whipping out a hairpin from her dreadlocks, she set to work picking at the tumblers in the padlock binding the chains. But as soon as she began attacking the lock, the chains jerked and started lowering Fox towards the vat of acid. As Fox continued descending towards the steaming liquid, Fay was forced to back down the ladder to stay level with him.

"Fox, you'd be _really_ proud of me if you knew everything I went through to get to you."

"Oh, uh, is that so? Hurry please, I prefer showers over baths."

"It's the truth! We went after you as soon as we learned you were kidnapped. All six members of Sasquatch Prostitute were killed by various traps! There were falling tiles with spikes underneath them, undead skeletons with dangerous weapons and impenetrable armor, and dangerous quiz shows that almost got us burned alive! But your girl Fay got through it all to save you! That's even more than your team could do. They're still stuck back there. I'm better than _all_ of them!"

Fox was still distracted by the tub of acid underneath him. "Yeah yeah, good girl! Say, if you pick that lock, won't I just fall straight into that bubbly liquid?"

"So have I proven myself, Fox? I braved all these awful traps to save you, even when your own team couldn't. I wish you could've seen how badass I was!" Fay paused to cover her mouth. "Oops! I didn't mean to say that. But it's true—I was awesome! So you should totally let me on your team!"

"First make sure I don't DISSOLVE IN THAT ACID!"

This time Fay stopped completely. "No sir! I'm not letting you loose until you let me join Star Fox!"

"Whyhyhyyyy?!" Fox moaned.

At that moment, Slippy crashed through the wall shouting, "AH YES!" Kold-Aid-painted belly jiggling from the impact. As drywall and plaster rained down into the room, Miyu and some hooker Fox didn't recognize also entered Black Mamba's bedroom.

"There you are, Fox!" Miyu exclaimed.

"Help!" Fox shouted. "This bitch is crazy! She won't let me go!"

"But I deserve to be on your teaeaeaeam!" Fay whined, shaking Fox hysterically.

Miyu and Gwendolyn rushed to the vulpine's aid, the lynx holding Fay back while the hooker carried Fox onto the step-ladder, safe from falling into the acid. Breaking the lock with her muscles alone, the hooker freed Fox from his restraints.

"Whoa-ho! Now _this_ girl deserves a spot on our team!"

Miyu let go of Fay long enough to rush over and hug the young vulpine. "Fox, we were so worried about you! We tried our best to get here, but there were dead people in punch bowls and spikes and fires and all kinds of horrible things!"

"D'aww, thanks you guys," Fox smiled. "Say, how did Slippy burst through that wall? We're in the highest tower of the mansion."

Slippy looked back over his shoulder at the hole he had made in the wall. Instead of the night sky, the cavity just displayed complete darkness. "That's a good question. I'd also like to know how a petite girl like Mamba got a giant vat of acid up here."

At that moment the ceiling opened up, revealing a sleek hovering spaceship with black, purple, and gold trimming. A projectile fired from its underbelly, bursting open at the last second to entangle Fay in a net. A tow cable began reeling her in, lifting the struggling spaniel up into the air.

"Fox, heeeelp!"

A hatch opened on the top of the Gothic-styled fighter, and out stepped Black Mamba, struggling to keep her balance on the ship.

"Yes!" Slippy exclaimed. "Now the mystery is solved. _This_ is what Goths wear on Halloween!"

"But that's what she normally wears," Fox commented.

"Yeah, what a let-down!" Slippy agreed. "I'd either expect you to dress like a normal person, or make some really extravagant, bat-shit crazy costume!"

 _"You idiots!"_ Mamba scolded them in her robotic voice. _"You think Halloween is just some day of the year where people_ _bob for apples_ _and carve pumpkins and pass out candy! Well it's not!"_ She placed a clenched paw on her chest. _"Halloween is all year 'round. It lives in our hearts, and in the ways we act!_ _It's not about wearing spooky costumes and setting up creepy decorations. It's about plotting murders and mimicking serial killers—the_ real _dark stuff!"_

Fox sniffed, thumping his own chest. "That was beautiful. It kinda gets ya, right here."

 _"_ _Now it's about time I told you why we_ really _planned this party. Fay and I orchestrated this whole thing; chasing you into the bathroom so I could kidnap you, planting the dangerous traps and trials so Fay could prove her worthiness, and her rescuing you at this very moment! It was all so you'd let her join the team."_

Miyu slapped her forehead. "I was getting a little suspicious of Fay's aptitude..."

"We've been had!" Slippy agreed.

 _"Only the jokes on Fay again!"_ Mamba laughed. _"This was all an elaborate plot to kidnap_ her! _And you, Fox, were the bait. Now I can escape from Papetoon, get away from my over-protective parents, and ransom Fay back to her rich family. From there I plan on becoming the Lylat's most skilled assassin. Well, ta-ta."_ With Fay in tow, her ship rose into the air and blasted off towards the crescent moon.

"Quick, let's get our arwings!" Miyu cried. "We've gotta save her, too!"

"Nope, we totally do not," Fox disagreed.

"What do you mean? A girl has just been kidnapped!"

"A), she was recently involved in my own kidnapping. B), this means she'll be out of my hair for an extended amount of time. And C), there's no monetary reason to go after her until her parents hire us to. _Or_ pay Black Mamba the ransom money. I'd say let's go back downstairs and enjoy the rest of the party free from that bubbly poodle."

Slippy shrugged. "Well, things could've gone worse. At least we didn't burn the Cortez's house down."

* * *

Roaring flames engulfed the Cortez family manor. On a hill on the opposite side of the street, the four members of Star Fox sat facing the inferno. The orange glow of the firestorm illuminated their expressionless faces, accompanied by the flashing red lights of the procession of fire engines called away from the Halloween parade.

"Tell me again, Falco," Miyu asked, not taking her eyes off the bonfire. "You put _what_ in the punch?"

* * *

 ***I would've made my own tirade in the same vein, but was short on time and you're probably sick of half-assed parodies and puns already. Or I could have made shit up and you'd never know the difference. Credit goes to RebelTaxi/Pan-Pizza.**


	5. Ep 5: Star Fox Retold in Emoji

**Selected _SF64_ Levels Retold in Emoji**

 **...Sorry if this update is** ㈐9

* * *

 **Prologue**

.㇧84th㇨1((㇩4))

.㈴0㈈1㈅3

.㇧8~㇩5㇭2

.㈅4✋㈇3㈺5~㇭6

.5⌚...

.㈅4㈆4㈞1~㇭6?!

.㈅4㈇3㈈3㈹0㈄8㈅5~㈛0㇭6

.✋㈈3㈹0✋✋㈄8✋㈝9㈅5

.㇭6㉀0㈄8~㇧8

.㈹5㈄8㈑2(㈈3㈹0~㈌8)

.⌚...

.㈈1㈅3✋㇧8✋

.㈅4㈻1㈇3㈹0㈄8㈅6㈂0~㇭6㈈1㈅3

* * *

 **Corneria** ㇧8

.㈇7㇬8

.⭐㈹0㈄8㈅6㈂0~㇧8

.㈅6!㈝9㈁8

.㈁8㇩5~㈝9㈹0

.㈝3ㇽ3ㇽ4㈝3ㇽ6㈝3

.㈂0㈐7

.㈂0?!㈝9㈁8㈁8㈁8

.㈹0~㈐3㈁8㈁8㈁8?

.㇩5㈁8㈁8㈁8㇩5~㈌8

.㈹6㈝9㈁8㈁8㈁8㈁8

.㈄8㈇3㈹0ㇾ2㈚0

.⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕~㉀0㈹0

.㈹0㈇5㈂0㈇3~㈲7㈐7㈲7

.㈝7㈅3㈝7㈝3~㈝9㈹0

..㈝5㈝5

.㇩5

* * *

 **Fichina** ❄㇨0

.⭐㈹0㈄8㈅6㈂0~❄㇨0

.ㇽ0⏰㇩5~㈁8

.㈁8㈁8~ㇽ0

.㈁8㇩5㈝9㈹0

.㈹0!~⭐㈅8㈅0㈅5㈺5

.㈅6㈝9㈺5

.㈂0㈝9㈅0

.㈄8㈝9㈅5

.㈹0㈝9㈅8

.㈅8㈑2(㈈3㈹6㇩5㈝9㈅8)

.㈐2㈹4㈝9㈅8

.㈝9㈅8!?㈝9㈹0㈚0

.⭐㈅8㈅0㈅5㈺5~㈌8

.㈹0㉀0~ㇽ0⏰

.ㇽ0㈹0㉄3⏰

* * *

 **Bonus: Can you guess these games?**

 **1)**

.㈈1㈅3㈞0~㇭6㇧4

.㇭6㇧4~㉀0㈃1㈃2㈃3㈂5

...㈹0

.../\

../\/\

./\/\/\

 **2)**

.㈅4㈇3㈹0~㈀9㇧7㇩5

.㈅4㈑2(㉄3㈝9)

.㈹1㈆4~㈎2㈹3㈈9㈎2

 **3)**

 **.** ⭐㈹0㈄8㈅6㈂0~㈝5㈉9

.㈹0!?㈆4~㈅1~㇧6

.㈅1㈑2(㈈3㈹0)

* * *

 **...And these stories?**

 **4)**

.㇭6~㉀0㈅8㈁8㈁8

.㈲7㇩5㉂6~㈝9㈅8

.㈅8!~㈹5㉄3㈆4

 **5)**

.㈹0~㇨5㇫6

.㈹1❤️Δ㈎2㈹4㈐2㈍9㈹4

.㈹0㈊6㈍9㈹0~ㇽ7 (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **6)**

.㇫5㈹0ㇸ8

.㇧8㈅4㈆4㈞1~㈊7㇧8

.㈊7㇧8~㉀0㈖5

.㉀0㈖5~㇧8㈅4㇩5㇭2

.㈝3ㇽ3ㇽ4㈝3ㇽ6㈝3

.㈅4㈐2㈊7

 **7)**

.㈈3㈅6㈝9㈅8

.㇧8~㈒8⤤!⤣㈅8~㇧6

 **8)**

.㈐9

.㈐9

.㈐9

.㈐9

.㈐9

.㈐9

* * *

 **A/N: Another one-time thing from me. Only emoji packed with Unicode 6.0 seem to work; Unicode 6.0 was the first version to support emoji. Apparently FFnet hasn't updated their servers to support anything more recent** — **and 6.0 came out in _2010._**

 **Also be aware that emoji look different depending on your device or browser.**


	6. Ep 6: Warp Gate Exploit

**Star Fox Misadventures**

 **Episode 6: Warp Gate Exploit**

 **(or**

 **Falco Lombardi, A Space Odyssey)**

* * *

"Here Falco, can you put this up there for me?"

Falco looked down at Slippy, who offered him his suitcase. He sighed and took it, shoving the suitcase into the luggage rack above their seats. "We're always saving your hide, Slip."

"It's not my fault Cornerians didn't have frogs in mind when they built these."

"Isn't it your dad's job to design these?" Falco asked.

"Hey, if the Cornerians pay for it, my dad delivers. Not his fault they're inconsiderate to our species and short Cornerians."

"Yeah, and it's not your fault all the food you eat makes you fill out sideways instead of..." Falco trailed off when he noticed Miyu had secretly squeezed past him and stolen his chair. "Hey! I called the window seat!"

"Tough luck, Falco. You know I get air sick."

"You fly a freakin' spaceship! You're not fooling anybody. Oh..." Falco whipped out a slip of paper, "plus my ticket says it right here: 24C. That's the window seat!"

"It does?" Miyu put up a front of confusion as she took Falco's ticket and studied it closer. "Huh, whaddya know, it does. Here," she gave him back her ticket. "This'll fix thinks."

"Errr! Help out a friend in need, and what do you get? Someone steals your chair. See if I help Slip again, Miyu. Or any of youse, for that matter."

"Shouldn't you be in one of the aisle seats, Falco?" Fox asked. He placed his suitcase atop the rack next to Slippy's. "After all that Titanian cuisine you ate?"

Falco dismissively waved his wing. "Aw that's nothing. My bowels can handle the spiciest Titanian food, no matter how strong."

Contradicting himself, Falco heard his intestines squeal in protest, and he involuntarily curled over a bit.

"On second thought... on second thought I desperately need the restroom."

Falco took off down the aisle of seats, headed towards the bathrooms at the rear of the passenger shuttle. Fox, Slippy, and Miyu all shared a laugh.

"Don't worry, I'll save him an aisle seat," Slippy said, taking the window seat behind Miyu's. "But I noticed you didn't fight very hard for this seat, Fox."

"Eh, once you've traveled through a warp gate once, you've traveled through it a hundred times. It's nothing special. Once you enter the warp zone they close the windows anyway."

"Why's that?" Miyu asked, looking out the window at the three ring-shaped gates rotating in front of the ship.

"Safety precaution. Staring into the warp zone is dangerous; the first pilots to fly through these wormholes all came back insane, before they learned to cope."

"Aw, but that takes all the fun out of it!" Miyu whined.

"Yeah, but it's cheaper than light drives, and that's the bottom line."

"Your dad is such a cheapskate."

"Remember this 'cheapskate' is paying you," Fox narrowed his eyes at Miyu.

* * *

Several minutes later Falco stood up from the toilet seat. He let out a sigh of relief, now that he didn't have to sit on the cold, cruel rim anymore. He ripped off half the roll of toilet paper, all of which was necessary because of how tissue-thin it was. He bent over slightly to wipe his ass, leaning against a ledge underneath the porthole. With a bored expression on his face he stared out the window, taking in the circular slice of space outside. The passenger shuttle was slowly entering the warp rings at this point—it must have been time to depart.

An old LED display over his head flashed on and off, the red letters spelling out _FASTEN SEAT BELTS._ Sure enough there was a seat belt around the toilet, but Falco scoffed at it. Wasn't a cop yet who could make him wear a seat belt. But now was an awful time to be caught with the toilet seat up, especially if the ship jolted upon entering the gates.

Falco looked back outside to see each of the rings light up in sequential order, with fields of blueish-green energy materializing around the edges. The discs of energized particles swirled colorfully like pools of machine oil, and rippled with the slightest change in solar wind.

A metal shutter began lowering over the porthole, probably to shield the bathroom occupant's eyes once they entered the warp zone, but got lodged halfway down; the bodies of several dead cosmo-roaches were jammed in the tracks. The frustrated shutter rose back up, then tried to descend again, but the bodies didn't give. It tried harder, raising and slamming back down with more abandon, but only made one of the cosmo-roaches even twitch. The shutter paused for a few moments before giving up and retracting back up into the wall.

"That's not supposed to happen..." Falco said slowly.

The ship entered the first ring, immediately lurching forward. Falco flailed backwards, grabbing onto the handicap railing with one hand and holding his toilet paper with the other.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

Just as he recovered from the first ring, the ship passed through the second and accelerated once again. Falco tipped back, but his eyes were locked on the hypnotizing view outside the porthole. What had once been dark space was now a bright aquamarine color, and each ring they passed stretched lazily behind in a ghostly series of afterimages.

Before Falco could look away the ship rocketed through the last ring, accelerating to a ridiculously fast speed. The stars seemed to stretch as well, transforming from mere specks of light to actual segments. A violent explosion shook the ship and Falco's restroom, accompanied by a deafening bang. A brilliant flash of white light blinded Falco, but he still couldn't tear his gaze from the porthole.

The light outside now shone completely white, but as Falco's eyes adjusted he was able to make out pearly blue, pink, and yellow textures swirling in the background. It felt like being lulled into a trance—like he was seeing a sight so beautiful no creature with evolved ocular organs could gaze upon it.

Finally he was able to look away from the hypnotizing pattern—but that implied he had control over his body, which he did not. Some other-worldly force bent his actions to its will. He looked into the toilet, at the bottom of which lay a black, rectangular prism-shaped object, no bigger than a turd. Darker than onyx, it beckoned him closer...

Curious, Falco bent over the steel bowl and looked in.

Suddenly the room became monstrously large—or rather, Falco shrunk to a fraction of his original size. He flailed his wings as he plummeted towards the bowl, but couldn't fly. Just as he was about to impact on the curved interior the water rushed up to meet him, cushioning his fall. He heard a flushing noise, and the water swirled all around like a giant whirlpool, dragging him down the pipes. The obelisk lead the way.

Once the light of the bathroom disappeared behind him, the water fell away, but Falco still felt the sensation of moving forward. A light appeared at the other end of the tunnel; narrowing his eyes, Falco peered ahead at it. It quickly approached him, revealing itself to be an intricate pattern of white lines over the black void of emptiness. The lines constantly grew and turned inwards on each other, bending at different angles, folding, rotating, splitting off, and cloning themselves like bacteria. Then the whole tunnel of space flashed bright orange, and the walls of the void became occupied with other colorful shapes. From Falco's perspective it felt like traveling through a massive kaleidoscope of infinitely changing colors.

Finally the shapes all unanimously settled on a black and purple spiral pattern, which made him feel dizzy. Falco speed through the void, causing the spiral to spin around him. It felt like he himself was spinning, which caused a sick sensation to build up in his stomach.

At the last moment before vomiting, Falco shot out of the other end of the void. He was spinning unbelievably fast but came to a sudden stop. His skull popped open like a PEZ dispenser, and his brain flew out, followed by his stomach, liver and kidneys.

"Shit, I need my liver!"

Falco tried swimming through the void after them, but his movements were too slow in the perpetual zero-gravity.

The black empty space transformed into a thin white substance, and Falco was joined in the milky pool by giant floating marshmallows in the shapes of animals. He looked up to see a massive spoon dipping into the bowl, above which stared Miyu's bored face.

Falco felt the spoon lift him out of the milk, along with several marshmallows. Once above the rim of the bowl he looked around to see the interior of Star Fox's base back on Papetoon—specifically the kitchen. Fox, Slippy, Miyu, and a static-filled empty space sat around the table. They were all tired and still clothed in pajamas, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Cans of the Blue Steer energy drink sat piled up in front of the static-covered figure.

The spoon carried Falco closer to Miyu's gaping mouth, but even from that distance he could smell her early morning tuna breath. Falco tried swimming to the edge of the spoon, hoping to escape.

"No Miyu! That's not food! Put me down!" he shouted.

Miyu didn't seem to recognize him—Falco did admit he bore a striking resemblance to the penguin marshmallow. It was too late; Miyu tipped the spoon into her mouth and Falco spilled into the dark.

He landed face down on a massage table, with a towel floating onto his rump. Several porcupines circled the table, sticking needles into his back. But rather than pain, he felt tingling warm sensations; they were giving him acupuncture therapy.

At first the needles seemed small and unthreatening enough; they were smaller than pins. But Falco saw one of the porcupines pass by his head with a tray of sewing needles.

"H-hey, be careful with those!" he pleaded. But in the needles went.

"Relax Falco," one of the therapists instructed him. He held a potted cactus and was hunting for the ideal spot on Falco's back. "Just let this happen."

Falco's eyes bugged out when two more porcupines passed by his face, one holding screwdrivers and the other holding wooden stakes.

"Whoa, guys, are you even licensed for this?"

A specialist behind him swung an iron fireplace poker above his head.

"I'm gonna stick this poker up your ass!"

"You're gonna do _what?!_ "

"I said I'm gonna stick it! I'm gonna stick this up your ass, Falco! You see this poker, Falco! Aaaaall the way up your ass! It's a _big_ freakin' poker Falco, and it's goin' aaaaall the way in there! This poker Falco, it's goin' up your ass. Up your ass Falco! But first I gotta get it red hot!"

"No, no!" Falco leapt up from the massage table and fled the porcupines, but when he passed the mirror he looked into it and saw a forest of sharp objects protruding from his back.

"Wha... what have you done to me?!"

"You're a hedgehog now, Falco. A blue, speedy hedgehog. Better run fast!"

Falco looked over his shoulder to see the porcupine approaching him with the poker. That was all the motivation he needed; he ran for the exit.

Falco stumbled through the doorway and found himself in a Zonessian-styled restaurant. Chefs twirled knives and forks in elaborate displays as they prepared food at table-grills.

Falco sat back down at his table, which he had all to himself. A gong sounded, the lights dimmed, and two chefs rolled a cart out of the swinging kitchen doors. Lying atop the cart was Katt—Falco's longtime crush from back on Zoness. He hadn't seen her since joining Star Fox... but now he could _really_ see her. She lay naked atop the tray, body covered with a colorful array of sushi: pearly white rice, iridescent green seaweed, sparkling orange roe eggs, and all kinds of sliced fish. Two piles of seaweed salad lay tangled atop her breasts, pieces of nigiri sat in two rib cage-like columns down her stomach, and a group of sushi rolls lay nestled between her abdomen and legs.

Falco's eyes popped out of his skull. "Hot ziggity!"

The chefs wheeled the cart over to Falco's table, sliding Katt and her tray onto the grill.

Katt crossed her arms behind her head and bent one of her legs seductively. With her eyes closed she asked, "Well Falco, wanna bite?"

"Heck yeah!"

Falco grabbed a pair of chopsticks and used them to lift a piece of tuna up to eye-level.

"I shall now pleasure myself with this fish."

Two vacant eyes popped out of the sushi, staring him down.

"Not if I can eat _you_ first!"

The tuna slab grew back its teeth and wiggled free of Falco's chopsticks, biting onto his neck. The avian shot up from his chair and raced around the room, begging for the other patrons to help get it off of him. By the time he made his way struggling for dear life to the bar, one of the chefs appeared in front of him with a frying pan.

"Why won't you eat something?!" he demanded.

"Not unless you feed me," Falco answered, staring back into his eyes.

The cook let him have it, slamming the skillet into his face. Falco saw stars for a moment, but then a pair of windshield wipers cleared them away. He found himself sitting at a sports bar, watching a game on the overhead TV with the rest of his teammates. But it was during one of the ad breaks, which disappointed him.

Miyu shook her head in disbelief. "Man, those anti-drug PSAs are getting weirder and weirder."

Falco slammed down his Blue Steer can and grabbed Miyu's face.

"IS EVERY TIME LYLATIANS HAVE SEX BESTIALITY, OR ONLY WHEN WE DO IT WITH HUMANS?!"

Fox became defensive of Miyu and slugged him on the head with a soda bottle, causing an explosion of glass, corn syrup, and carbonated water to nearly drown him.

A hand grabbed Falco's crest feathers, jerking his head out of the cloud of liquid. His face lifted above the surface, only to discover a pig chef was forcing his head into a filled up sink.

"What is the recipe for Antoine Gustav's Perky Pizza Pasta?!"

"I'll never tell you, Chef Guardino!"

Growling, the pig rolled up his sleeves and shoved Falco's head back beneath the water. Falco's beak flew open, emitting a cascade of bubbles. He screamed, but the sound was drowned out by the water. Chef Guardino lifted him out again.

"The secret recipe, Falco! Or you'll never see Antoine Gustav again, nor his Perky Pizza Pasta!"

"Over my dead body! You can string me up by my thumbnails, you can draw and quarter me, but you'll never get Gustav's—"

The pig forced his head back into the soapy sink water, burning Falco's eyes. He nearly drowned that time.

His head burst from the water, and Falco coughed out, "It's the pecorino cheese, the sheep's milk cheese! Waah-ha-haaa..."

The pig slung him across the floor, where he slid into a wall of pots and pans. "Then you'll milk every sheep in this ristorante! Get to work!"

Sniveling, Falco crawled onto his hands and knees until he located the nearest sheep, which he immediately set to work milking. Guardino ran and dove across the floor, sliding expertly on his chef's apron beneath the sheep's udder. He opened his mouth wide and gestured for Falco to continue. Grimacing through the tears, Falco squeezed the milk down the length of the drooping teats, squirting the sheep's milk into Guardino's hungry mouth.

The sheep looked over his shoulder and said, "It's okay, just pretend I'm not an intelligent Lylatian, and it'll hurt less."

With a mouth full of milk, Guardino frowned and impatiently shook Falco's arm. In his haste Falco yanked too hard on the udder, and the sheep _baa'd_ and kicked him backwards.

Falco flailed, nearly losing his balance. But he recovered, maintaining his eagle pose. Looking around him, he discovered his next location to be on top of a lush mountain, so high that clouds passed by underneath. Red walls with slatted roofs and curved, circular arches surrounded a courtyard that overlooked a large valley; a pagoda sat at one end, from which a figure was now emerging.

Falco looked to his left and right, discovering other animals at his sides. Like him they wore customary Zonessian monk robes, and were similarly balanced in eagle poses. Something felt off about Falco's body though; he realized he was inhabiting the avatar of a red panda monk.

An elderly tiger with white hair and a balding head descended from the pagoda, stopping in front of his students. He knocked on the floor of the stone courtyard with his old, weathered staff.

"A kōan is a question a monk asks himself during meditation to incite the great doubt. The great doubt frees the mind of its misinformed, limited, mortal perspective of the world, and allows the monk to better meld with his inner reality. The kōan exhausts the analytical mind, leaving it open to infinite understanding. Sunchoun, you will start your brothers off with the first kōan."

Falco's body fluidly assumed a new tree pose. But he wasn't Falco anymore... he was the red panda, Sunchoun. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply with each movement. Before asking his question, he sought to be one with nature. He could hear the trickling of a nearby stream... a sōzu bamboo shoot intermittently hitting the rock wall of a fountain... cicadas singing further down the mountain... the sounds of the clouds moving through the trees... a fly cleaning its face on the next mountain peak...

"Do you prefer tits, or ass?"

The tiger elder nodded, closing his eyes and stroking his beard to think deeply. He struck the ground with his staff, and the students took on the duck pose. He started up a low, guttural hum within his throat, the rest of the disciples soon joining him.

"You have asked one of the questions of the great yogi, Gigguk Maneetapho. It is not a question for beginners, but I feel it in me that you are no longer novices. Therefore, meditate, and when the Universal Soul fills you with the answer, speak freely."

The humming continued until an antelope on Sunchoun's left spoke up.

"I think titties are holier. They have more freedom to move than ass cheeks, embodying the freedom of the spiritual realm beyond the constraining chains of the physical."

Agreement sounded in low _mhmm_ s throughout the monks' ranks.

"I feel that asses are closer to the divine reality," a hippo murmured, lost in a meditative trance. "They embody the dual nature of the universe; beauty and uncleanliness, softness and firmness, sweetness and stench. They are a metaphor for the great Yin and Yang."

Even more _mhmm_ s arose from the monks. The yogi instructed them to shift into another pose: the winged platypus. Sunchoun felt his mind rent in two; half singing the praises of tits, while the other mentioned the hidden grace of the ass. He felt himself arguing in circles, like a snake or a phoenix infinitely chasing its tail.

 _Loop._

 _Loop._

 _Loop._

Sunchoun gasped. His head snapped back, and his eyes rolled into his skull, emitting a blinding yellow light.

"I... I see... The Universe. It's _in_ me, and I'm in _it_!"

The blinding light cleared a little, and Falco felt himself descending. He was falling into the most shapely pair of buttocks he had ever seen—nearly three hundred times his size. Slipping between them, he then fell between a similar pair of breasts, then into a mesmerizing spiral galaxy, then back into the ass again, and then the breasts and the galaxy and the ass and the breasts and the galaxy andtheassandbreastsandgalaxyassbreastsgalaxyass—

The blue-feathered Falcon landed on an island covered in snow-colored sand. Lime green water lapped at its shores, and a red sun rose in the pink sky. When he hit the ground he landed face first in the sand. He lifted his head up and spat a load of the fine grains from his beak. He stood up and dusted himself off, looking around.

" _a...a...aaaaaa_ aaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHH—"

Falco stepped aside just in time to dodge a second bird who fell out of the sky—smashing spread-eagle into the sand where he had been. He helped the other avian out of the sand only to discover...

"What the hell?!" both Falcos said to each other.

"What are you doing here?" the first Falco asked the second.

"I dunno, I think I got hit by an ice cream truck."

Before Falco could quiz him any further, another blue avian fell out of the sky. Then another, and another—until it literally rained Falcos from the sky. Soon, the island was covered in clones of himself.

"Anyone know where I can find a can of Blue Steer?"

"Hold up, I misplaced my deodorant around here, try not to step on it or you might shatter it. He's very sensitive."

"If any of you bozos see a baby shark walking around, don't poke it with a stick. That's my pet."

"Damn, Kendrick Llama's my favorite rapper!"

"I still have shit on my ass."

"Shoutout to Simpleflips."

"Slippy cheats in Smash. I swear to god, Slippy cheats in Smash."

One of the Falcos pointed to the original Falco. "Hey man, don't ask why I was lookin', but you're completely naked."

Falco looked down, realizing he was in the nude. He crossed his wings over his crotch.

"Geez, why were you even looking there?"

The other bird moved directly in front of Falco and opened his beak wide enough to engulf his head. "I said, DON'T ASK ME THAT QUESTION!"

Falco stumbled back and pointed at his adversary. "Well you're nude too, if ya hadn't noticed."

The other Falco squatted and placed his hands on the sides of his head.

"Oh my god I'm naked!"

The epiphany seemed to spread over the cast of falcons.

"I'm, I'm—"

"Oh my god! Oh my god!"

"I'm naked!"

"Why am I naked?!"

Falco jumped behind the other Falco, using him as a living shield. "Don't move!"

The other Falco looked over his shoulder at him. "Oh I see what you're doing!"

He tried to get away from the original, but Falco stayed on his tail feathers like Sally May on a prospective starry-eyed college student. They waddled around the flock of Falcos, one trying to escape and the other constantly keeping pace with him. They passed more and more Falcos, who all realized what the original Falco was doing and became inspired. More and more Falcos began following each other around the beach, hoping to maintain their decency. Soon the entire island became a writhing mass of blue as the naked Falcos chased or ran from each other around its perimeter.

Finally the first Falco jumped in front of the one he was trailing.

"You're not getting away!"

He clobbered him with a powerful right hook to the beak. That Falco fell over backwards, landing on his side. Immediately Falco knelt behind him, grabbing onto his tail feathers. He yanked as hard as he could, eliciting a pained squawk from his victim. One by one, a clump of luxurious tail feathers popped out, each emitting the sound of a breaking guitar string. Once he was done, Falco placed the tail feathers over his crotch and stood up with a confident smile.

The smile disappeared from his face when another Falco called everyone's attention to him. "Look at Douche McDouchebag over here; he's got more tail feathers than any of us!"

"Get him!"

The nearest Falcos charged him, but Falco ducked beneath them and sank back into the crowd. Fighting broke out over the entire island as the nude Falcos searched for the original. Tail feathers and plumage covered the soft sand in a complete carpet. Squawks and angry shouts rose up from every corner of the island. It was complete carnage.

The first Falco grabbed another by the neck, choking him. His victim's eyes bugged out, and he gagged and clawed at his throat. Falco spun him around and flung him into a group of four-to-five other Falcos, bowling them over.

As one, an audience of three Falcos slapped their knees and said,

"Nice shot!"

"Nice shot!"

"Nice shot!"

Over the course of fifteen minutes of an all-out brawl, the island became littered with KO'd Falcos. Only a small group of birds remained standing at the center of the carpet of unconscious Falcos. They circled the original Falco, bleeding and bruised and missing tail feathers and plumage. They beat their chests, cracked their knuckles and necks, and drew fingers across their throats.

"You're dead meat, pal!"

"You're dead meat, pal!"

"You're dead meat, pal!"

"You're dead meat, pal!"

Then they rushed him. The swarm came with fists swinging and clawed feet kicking. But Falco was ready for them. He shouldered his way between two, pushing one over and into the rest before turning to face the other. He sank a series of consecutive blows into his stomach. The others did their best to mob him and bring him down, but he was too good at evading and taking them out.

Falco came to face the last clone standing. Drawing back his fist, he swung it forward and drove it home into his abdomen. The blow was so awe-inspiringly powerful it launched Falco's pancreas out of his tear duct.

The last enemy Falco fell to his knees, then toppled over. "Ow my haaaaair..."

Falco was left standing at the top of a towering mound of other defeated Falcos. He breathed heavily, scanning his handiwork.

He began smoothly thrusting his hips from side to side in a sort of taunting victory dance. "Aw yeah... Aw yeaaaah! Who's the boss of you losers? You may be me, but _I'm_ more badass! Now, everyone get up!"

He snapped his fingers, and the pile of other Falcos shifted beneath him. Some formed a living chair beneath him, so he could sit while they carried him around. The others fell into line around the island, forming military-organized platoons.

"We're getting off this island!" Falco shouted with authority. "I want each and every one of you to make a bridge into the sun!"

Obeying his command, the Falcos closest to the setting sun lay down on the edge of the island, forming a bridge about five Falcos wide. As more and more extended out over the ocean, Falco had himself carried across their makeshift bridge, heedless to the drowning Falcos underneath him. They carried him miles and miles over the sea, until they came upon an ancient pyramid protruding from the water. Falco looked up at the sky and saw another pyramid emerging from the sea on another planet, floating above his. The second planet descended until the two pyramids nearly touched. The gravity from the second planetary body lifted the horde of Falcos from the ocean, until they swam in a near gravity-less state between them.

But before the tops of the two pyramids touched, Slippy arose from the water, his over-sized body towering over the floating swarm of Falcos. He looked down, frowning on the original.

"I do not cheat at Brawl," he proclaimed, "but sometimes I do wear Miyu's underwear."

And he pulled off his T-shirt, revealing his flabby white stomach and manboobs, covered by one of Miyu's bras. This wasn't enough for the angered Aquan, who snapped the bra off as well. Falco screamed and covered his eyes—this was by far the worst of all sights.

Slippy wedged himself between the two nearing pyramids, so that each of the tips of the monoliths poked into his bared nipples.

"For thousands of years, I will keep the dual worlds apart, preventing the destruction of reality itself. Light and darkness, order and destruction, matter and anti-matter, Fox x Krystal ships and Fox x Wolf ships; they must be kept in constant flux for the preservation of the universe. Now fuck off. Oh... and take Miyu's underwear. You need to cover up."

The purple-colored bra blotted out the sun as it floated in Falco's direction, but shrank down to his size. He didn't bother to thank Slippy, but he put the bra on over his chest. It accomplished Jack-shit.

"Now get thee gone, before I combine you with Nega-Falco, and you are forever obliterated."

"Yeah, but now I've got a bra!"

Falco flapped his wings and flew back down to the surface, where the other Falcos set about building a kingdom on the islands. Now dressed in a regal robe of feathers they donated—and the bra—Falco walked down the main street of the capital city. He stepped out of time, experiencing the fourth dimension on a different plane than everyone else. The mob of blue avians swarmed over the sands, faster than Falco's eyes could follow. They baked the sand into stone bricks and built great towering structures and obelisks as high as the eye could see—so tall they blocked out the sun and its three sister moons. Then thousands of years raced by, and Falco watched the city crumble into decay, until it was once again indistinguishable from the sands it came from. Time suddenly reversed, and Falco saw the buildings fly back together, only for the Falcos to tear them down into raw sand again. Time sped up until with each blink of his eyes, the Lombardistan civilization had cycled or rewound through an entire epoch. He saw magnificent creatures drop from their mothers' wombs, grow and run and hunt and die and rot away on windswept plains, then grow flesh back on their bones and shrink and crawl back inside their progenitors' wombs. All this time, Falco tread along a great wall that circled the planet 89 times, and 3 quarters.

At the end of the wall he found a mirror, and looking into the mirror he saw Slippy and Miyu's faces protruding from either side of his head.

"Aah!" Falco held a mirror up to see behind his head as well, where he confirmed Fox's face was.

"Hiya bird brain."

"S'up Falco."

"Hit me up with some Blue Steer."

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Falco shouted. But his fist raised up and punched himself in the face.

"Stop hitting yourself," Slippy lilted in that ear-splitting high-pitched giggle of his.

Miyu began making raspberries out the side of his head while Fox admonished him from behind.

"Falco, I can't believe I let you on this team. You begged me to hire you as our fourth member and look where that got us. Now we're all stuck onto the sides of a single head."

"But this is _my_ body!"

Fox shook his head, making Falco's world spin. "That's where you're wrong, Falco. It's _the team's_ body. We share it. We have to work like a well-oiled machine, doing everything in tandem, and when the leader gives the word. Now remind me who the leader is, Falco?"

Falco stuck his thumb into his chest. "I'm the leader! If you want to order me around, get good scrub! Fight me one-on-one, IRL, and we'll see if you have what it takes to boss me around! I dare you! I daaaare you!"

Miyu moved on from farting noises to repeating, "The quick brown Fox jumped over the lazy dog. The-quick-brown-Fox-jumped-over-the-lazy-dog. ThequickbrownFoxjumpedoverthelazydog!" In the meantime, Slippy's face began to melt off the side of Falco's head, dripping down his shoulders. His jaw, mouth, cheeks, and nose stretched to ridiculously long proportions, as his annoying giggle sank in pitch. It was deeper now, and slowed down, but Falco realized Slippy's voice sounded annoying at any frequency.

"Shut up and get in line, Falco!" Fox continued to berate him. "You're such a lazy, pig-headed, grease-feathered, stubborn, braggadocious, good for nothing—"

"Faaaalcoooo, saaaave meeee!"

"—uickbrownFoxjumpedoverthelazydogthequickbrownFox—"

"—pain in my ass, Falco! You're nothing but a searing, needle-like pain poking into my tight ass!"

"Pleaaaaase Faaalcooo, my faaaace is meeeeltiiiiing—"

Falco tried to cover his ears with his wings, but only found Miyu and Slippy's mouths, which actually might've worked just as well. He tried to block out their annoying words, but his right wing just got Slippy's facial goo all over it and Miyu tried to eat his feathers. He had no hope of reaching Fox.

The mirror rippled, and out of the metallic liquid stepped Peppy, James' teammate.

"Do a barrel roll!"

"Just shut up old man! Why don't you try something new for a change?!"

But Peppy wouldn't let up.

"Do a barrel roll!

"Do a barrel roll!

"Use a barrel roll!

"Use your barrel roll!

"Use your barrel controls!

"Use your motion controls!

"Use your motion controls!

" _Uuuuuse yoooour mooootioooon cooontroooolsssssssss!"_

Clenching his eyes shut, Falco scream, "AAAAAAAHHHHH _HHHHHH!"_

* * *

"Falco! Falco are you in there?"

A muffled voice came from the other side of the bathroom door. Falco lifted his head up, realizing he had fallen asleep with his forehead against the rim of the toilet seat. Geez, he'd have to clean that up. Hurriedly he finished wiping and flushed the toilet, then sprang upon the sink.

"Uh-yuh-yeah, I'll be right out!"

Falco breathed erratically while washing his hands, struggling to wipe his mind clear of all the psychological horrors he'd experienced. Then, after drying his hands and taking a deep breath, he slicked back his head feathers and stepped out the bathroom door.

Fox was waiting for him, his paws on his hips. "Falco, what the heck took so long? You were in there the entire trip!"

Falco sighed. "You can say that again."

"That better have been the biggest goddamn dump of your life, Falco. I shudder to think what else could take you an hour."

Falco lay a hand on Fox's shoulder, holding onto him for support. "Look Fox, I just wanna get out of here. I've had a really rough day. We've arrived, haven't we?"

"Yeah, we're here."

"Good. Anyway, I've got a shit ton of questions I need to ask you. Like, really simple questions, and really complicated questions, and some questions that _seem_ simple, but are actually really complicated."

"You've lost me," Fox frowned at him.

Falco shook his head desperately. "Okay okay, lemme just ask one. Fox, I need you to tell me... does Antoine Gustav's Perky Pizza Pasta exist, and if no, do parallel universes exist?"

"Ohhhh!" Fox slowly nodded his head in understanding. "Was Chef Guardino there to?"

"Yes!" Falco shook Fox's shoulders. "Oh thank you! Oh thank heavens, I thought I was mad. I thought I was dead!"

"Yeah, you must've looked at the wormhole. That's why they have those blinders close over the portholes—to protect the passengers. It's the only drawback to wormhole flight."

Falco sighed deeply and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Geez Louis, I thought I found the afterlife. So it's normal to see Chef Guardino torturing you for the recipe?"

Fox nodded. "Totally. Ugh, I remember when _I_ had to milk his nipples to get the pecorino cheese."

Falco stopped Fox from walking any further down the passageway. "Wait, you know pecorino comes from sheep, right?"

"Huh?"

Falco slowly asked, "Why were you milking Chef Guardino?"

The skin underneath Fox's facial fur burned a deep shade of red. His eyes widened and he stared off into space. His fists clenched.

"That bastard!"

Before Falco could stop him, Fox charged off down the hall, disappearing from sight.

"Where's a window?! I'll kill him!"

* * *

 _A/N : I tired myself out after speed-writing those last two _Yellow 60 Lake _chapters, to meet the eclipse deadline. So I needed to write something looser, without any constraints: completely spontaneous. And after watching last week's_ Rick and Morty _episode, I knew just what to write. Just search YouTube for "Rick and Morty Wormhole Trip", and you'll see where I got my inspiration. Also, "Exquisite Corpse" is quite good._

 _Anyway, that's the last of_ Misadventures _for now. Today my classes started back up, and my free time is limited. I'd also like to finish_ Y60L _in under a year, meaning I gotta finish it by the start of 2018. So expect another_ Misadventures _update in like... another year! Bye!_


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